


Beneficial Engagement

by rudennotgingr



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-13
Updated: 2013-10-07
Packaged: 2017-12-26 10:15:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 59,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/964763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rudennotgingr/pseuds/rudennotgingr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is an AU of the movie The Proposal (with Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds). Threatened with deportation, John makes a deal with his assistant, Rose, in order for him to stay on as editor in chief.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. John and Rose

**Author's Note:**

> I'm dedicating this to the wonderful bittie752! I can't express enough how grateful I am for her help and encouragement, without which this would have never gotten written. And if you haven't read her stuff yet, you really should.
> 
> Warning: The swearing in this is very mild, but I figured better safe than sorry. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who or The Proposal, if I did this would be a movie...not my silly little fic.

Rose rolled over in her bed, glancing briefly at the clock, 6:52 AM. With a sleepy smile she closed her eyes and snuggled back underneath the covers. A contented sigh escaped her lips before her eyes popped open wide. “Shit!” Throwing the pink duvet off of her, and subsequently onto the floor, she looked back at the clock, 6:53 AM. “Shit, shit, shit.” 

Groaning, Rose clamored out of her bed and across the room to her en suite. To shower or not? She was already running late, really late. She bit her lip, wondering if a full shower and actually being late was worth risking her boss’s anger. Probably not. Then again, if she showed up looking like what he thought of as unprofessional, it would have been worth the shower. Exasperated, she compromised with herself. Tearing off clothing, leaving it to clean up later, she hopped in the shower. Washing her hair and brushing her teeth in cold water, she was in and out in record time. Still wrapped in a towel, she hurriedly applied the minimal amount of make-up. Dashing to her closet she grabbed the first outfit she could get her hands on. The black a-line skirt came just below her knees, and she placed the matching elbow length black jacket on over a light blue blouse. She slipped into her flats and shoved her heels into her hand bag. She would have to change once she got to work, right now she needed to be able to jog. Wishing she had worn pants that would have allowed her to run, she locked the door and rushed to the lift. On the way down she pulled her still damp blonde hair into what she hoped was a professional looking bun.

Once the lift reached the ground floor, Rose was out the door before it fully opened. She still had to stop for coffee. She preferred tea herself, but her boss was a coffee drinker, in the morning at least, and today she wasn’t going to begrudge the caffeine. She finally reached the coffee shop only to come to a halt just inside the door. “Oh you have got to be kidding me.” Rose groaned and bounced from foot to foot trying to see the counter around the throng of people. She was going to be late and her boss was going to rip her a new one. 

“Rose!” a voice from the somewhere near the counter called. Pushing around the line, Rose made her way up front to see one of the employees watching her. Adam, was that his name? Rose couldn’t quite remember and in that moment didn’t care. He was holding two coffee cups out toward her, beaming smile across his face.

“Oh my gosh, you’re a life saver.” She grabbed the cups from him, flashing him a brilliant smile of her own, before shouting a quick thank you over her shoulder on her way out the door. She had about 10 minutes left to get to work, and a 15 minute walk. Time to put the flats to good use.

 

Across town, John Noble ran at a leisurely pace on his treadmill while reading a manuscript propped precariously in front of him. The manuscript had apparently had enough, turning the next page caused the whole thing to tumble to the floor. John immediately hopped off the treadmill, snatching the manuscript before it hit the ground. He picked up his nearby towel and wiped some of the sweat off of his neck. Rolling his shoulders, he placed the manuscript on a table so he could go shower and prepare for the rest of the day. He had woken up plenty early, but wanted to be out the door fairly soon, he had an important phone call to make on his way to the office. 

John went about meticulously preparing for his day, all while finishing the manuscript. It was actually quite good, needed a few well-placed polishes, but it would be a best seller for sure. Showered and dressed, he stopped to check his reflection before heading out the door. Brown pin striped suit, dark blue oxford with complementing brown and blue swirled tie. The only questionable piece of his outfit was his shoes. A somewhat battered pair of white trainers. No one ever said anything though. The few that tried were successfully quieted by a hardened stare. He turned his head this way and that to make sure his hair was styled to perfection. His hair defied gravity on a daily basis, and he was quite proud of it. Grabbing his phone he walked out the door.

Once out on the street, he dialed the number by memory and hit send. “Hello, John.” A soft voice spoke on the receiving end.

“Joan, darling. Has my favorite writer given anymore thought to our little talk?” John’s voice was smooth, and he plastered a smile on his face, hoping to make it sound even more appealing. 

“I have. But I’m still not sure it’s a good idea.”

“Listen, you know I’m right. I’m always right. You’re trying to reach a different audience. They don’t work the same way over there. People in America are broke, busy, and hate to read. Really, their distaste for books is uncanny. Anyway, they need someone to say ‘Hey! Don’t watch CSI:Los Angeles, or whatever it is, tonight. Read a book. Read Joan’s book!’ And that person is Oprah.” John didn’t understand why Joan was so worried about doing the talk show. All she really had to do was show up, be polite, and look pretty and then Oprah would do the rest. 

“Are you sure? I admit I don’t know much about this Oprah, or how it all works in America. But it just seems like begging.” She didn’t bother hiding the disgust and misgiving in her voice.

John took a deep breath, this was getting ridiculous. “Joan, the truth is, all A-plus novelists do publicity. J. K.! J. K. Rowling was interviewed by Oprah! You know what else she has? Movies, and a theme park!” There was silence on the other line. Oh please, please, please.

“Book it. And John, make sure you’re still available for all my calls. In case I need more reassurance.” The line went dead. Ha! He had done it. Another success. And just in time. Schooling his features he strolled into his office building.

 

Gripping both cups tightly, Rose exited the lift and entered the office of the editing company she worked for. File cabinets and cubicles covered most of the floor. Offices for some of the higher ups lined the walls, no doubt granting them breath taking views of the city below. Disinterested faces barely glanced up from the sea of cubicles. “Cutting it close there, Tyler?” Jake sneered at her.

“Oi, shut it Captain Obvious.” Her tone was teasing, even though she knew he hadn’t been. No point in giving them something else to talk about behind her back. They all thought she was sleeping with John, no matter what she said or how cruelly he treated her in front of everyone. It was common knowledge that she had never gotten her A-levels. Apparently shagging the boss was therefore the only way she could have gotten her current position of employment. Good thing none of them knew about her family. Spinning around, she was run over by the mail cart. Coffee from one of the cups splattered all over her shirt before clattering to the carpet. “Bloody hell!”

“Sorry…” Craig’s apology was barely heard over Rose’s sudden outburst of swear words. “I didn’t see you there. I really am sorry.”

Rose took a deep breath. “It’s fine, Craig. Just…one of those days.” Craig was one of the few people in the office that was genuinely nice to her. She smiled gently at him, reassuring him that she wasn’t going to hold a grudge.

“Rub some dirt on it!” Jake yelled at her from his new position by Jenny’s desk.

“Not helpful Jake.” What was she going to do now? There was coffee all over the front of her blouse. Of course she hadn’t bothered packing an extra. An idea formed as she saw her friend stroll to her desk and sit down. Rose walked over to her friend’s cubicle and perched on her desk. “Sarah Jane. I need the shirt off of your back. Literally.” She flashed a disarming smile and fluttered her lashes just a bit.

Sarah Jane barked out a laugh. Her shoulder length brown hair bobbed as she tried to control her laughter. She was older than Rose and had become a bit of a surrogate mother. “Your wiles may work on the boys dear, but they won’t work on me.”

“Please Sarah Jane. I will owe you big time. Oh! You know those company tickets to the big Manchester United game I have? All yours.”

Sarah Jane raised both her eyebrows, “Seriously?”

“I know how much Luke was wanting to go.” Rose chanced a glance at the clock. “Five seconds.” She watched Sarah Jane’s face, the inner debate clearly evident. “Three seconds.”

“Ok, ok. Come on, we’ll trade in the loo. Looks like you still need to change your shoes anyway.” With that, the older woman stood up and walked off, Rose close on her heels.

 

The announcement of John’s arrival at the office spread like wildfire. Instant messages on every computer screen blinked with various warnings; ‘Here comes the Oncoming Storm’ or ‘The Destroyer of Worlds is on the move.’ Head held high, he marched through the main area towards his private office. He didn’t make eye contact or speak to anyone, he never did. He was here to work, not make friends, and it showed. All his employees ceased chattering and averted their gaze, desperately trying to appear busy and invisible all at once so as to avoid becoming collateral damage on his climb up the ladder of success. 

Rose smoothed out the borrowed blouse, it was just a tad too big but hoped no one could tell underneath her jacket. Tucking a lock of hair that had escaped her bun behind her ear, she handed John his coffee as he walked through the door to his office. “Morning. You have a conference call in 30 minutes.”

“About the marketing of the spring books. Yes, I know.” John ignored her greeting, getting down to business as usual. He took his coffee to his desk, sat down, and began shuffling paperwork around.

“Staff meeting at 9:00” Rose stated, following him into his office, coming to stand just in front of his desk. She was more than used to his cold attitude and no nonsense approach. It had bothered her when she first started working for him. After all, she was bubbly and friendly by nature, so his distant manner struck her as extremely odd and uncomfortable. She had quickly adjusted though, she had to if she had any hope of moving up on her own.

John didn’t even blink at the mention of the staff meeting, choosing a different topic instead. “Did you call…oh, what’s her name?” He began gesturing wildly with his hands, a look of disgust marring his usually handsome features. He snapped his fingers, then pointed at Rose. “Ha! The one with the ugly hands!”

Rose raised an eyebrow at him, trying to hide her embarrassment that she knew exactly who he was talking about. “Susan?”

“Susan. Yes, that’s the one.” Puzzle solved, he immediately switched back into his aloof demeanor. 

“Yes, I did. I told her that if she didn’t get her manuscript in on time, you wouldn’t give her a release date.” Rose paused for a moment, biting her lip. He wasn’t going to like this next one, and she wasn’t all too sure what the specifics were. “Your immigration lawyer called. He said it’s imperative…”

If that meant anything to him, he did a very good job of keeping it hidden. Stacking some papers and without looking at her, he rambled off a to-do list, “Cancel the call, push the meeting to tomorrow, and keep the lawyer on the sheets.” So much for learning what that was about. John drummed the desk with the fingers on his right hand. “Get ahold of PR. Have them start drafting a press release.” He looked up at Rose with a smug smile and light in his eyes. “Joan is doing Oprah.”

“Seriously?” Rose thought he had to be joking. Joan was a snob, she wanted to get her name elsewhere but was loathe to do any of the work. John’s disapproving look told Rose that he was indeed very serious. “Wow. Nicely done.”

“If I want your praise I will ask for it.” His tone was ice and his piercing gaze made Rose want to strangle him with his tie. The rude git. She took a couple of breaths to calm her simmering anger and turned to walk out of the office. The harsh quip was her queue to exit and get to work. John picked up his cup and began to raise the coffee to his lips. Sloppy black handwriting scrawled across the cardboard caught his eye. “Who is Adam? And why does he want me to call him?”

Rose froze in mid stride. Her eyes widened in panic, shit shit shit. Erasing her face of any emotion, she turned back toward John. “That was originally my cup.”

He arched an eyebrow, examining her reaction carefully. “And I’m drinking your coffee…because why, exactly?”

She didn’t flinch under his scrutiny, “Because yours spilled.”

John focused his gaze on the cup, carefully swishing it around. Without looking at her, he took an experimental sip from the cup, taking his time to taste it. “So you drink extra sweetened whole milk chocolate chip lattes with a hint of cinnamon?” He peered at her over his glasses. Oh, this was going to be good. What could she possibly say to that?

She simply smiled innocently at him. “I do. It’s like Christmas in a cup.”

“Is that a coincidence?”

“Incredibly, it is.” Good Lord, would he drop it already? The phone rang and Rose began to back towards it, welcoming the interruption. “I wouldn’t drink the same coffee that you drink in case yours spilt. That would be pathetic.” Before John could say something in reply, Rose spun around and picked up the phone. “Morning. Mr. Noble’s office.” A soft female voice muttered something rude on the other end of the line. “Hey Reinette.” A noise came from the desk, causing Rose to turn back around. John had gotten up and was motioning toward the door. Rose cut off the other woman who had begun rambling about some made up reason for calling John’s office, Rose knew she had only called to try and speak to John directly. “Actually, we’re headed to your office right now.” Rose hung up the phone without giving Reinette a chance to answer. “Why are we headed to Rienette’s office?” Too late Rose realized she had directed the question to his back. Rolling her eyes, she ducked out the door to catch up. Now walking beside him, but just a little behind to show she knew her place, Rose steeled herself to ask him the question that had been plaguing her for a week. “Have you finished the manuscript I gave you?”

“I read a few pages. I wasn’t all that impressed.” His answer was to the point and rude, as usual.

“May I say something?”

“No.”

Rose decided to press her luck despite his objection. “I’ve read thousands of manuscripts, out of all of that, this is the only one I’ve given you.” She took his silence as permission to continue. “There’s a brilliant novel in there. The kind that you used to publish.” Before she could gather her thoughts to say anything else, John shot her a look over his shoulder.

“Wrong. And I do think you order the same coffee as me in case you spill.” John turned his head just long enough to make a pointed glance at her shirt. Rose was thankful he was walking just in front of her, she could feel the heat in her cheeks as she flushed from anger and embarrassment. “Which is, in fact, pathetic.”

The thought to strangle him with his tie once again popped in her head. She refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing he had affected her, so she tried to play it off. “Or impressive.”

“I’d be impressed, if you didn’t spill in the first place. Remember, you’re a prop in here.” They had now reached the door to Reinette’s office. He stood by the door, making a motion across his lips indicating that Rose was to keep her mouth shut once they were inside, making his jab hit home.

“Won’t say a word.” Rose uttered with fake adoration in her voice. His raised eyebrow told her he didn’t appreciate the tone. Merely smiling she swept her arm in front of her towards the door. “After you, sir.” He let the sarcasm slide as he marched through the doorway, not bothering to ask Reinette for permission to enter.

Reinette was standing behind her desk, looking down at various stacks of paper cluttered around her computer. Her long blonde hair was done up in a much more intricate bun than Rose’s. Her skirt was shorter, pushing the boundaries of professionalism, and the top two buttons of her golden blouse were undone. No doubt she had done that once Rose told her that John was on his way to her office. Rose smirked behind John’s back. On some other man that may have worked, John however wouldn’t care in the least. Part of Rose wondered if he would even notice in the first place. Reinette looked up at their entrance and smiled, “Our fearless leader…and his servant. Please, do come in.” Maybe she could choke both of them with John’s tie, Rose thought. 

“Beautiful breakfront. Is it new?” John had walked over to a large oak cabinet in the back corner of Reinette’s office. He casually leaned against it, propped up with one elbow, taking a sip of his coffee. Oh this was going to be good. She wasn’t sure what the visit was for exactly, but she had worked for John long enough to tell when he was about to lay into someone. She bit her lip to suppress a smile.

“It’s English Regency Egyptian Revival, built in the 1800s.” Reinette practically purred in response. “But yes, it is new to my office.”

“Witty Reinette.” John trailed a finger along the edge of the dresser, not looking at Reinette. “I’m letting you go.” Rose looked from John to Reinette, eyes wide. This was going to be beyond good, this was going to be brilliant.

Reinette’s smile faltered for a small instant, “Pardon?”

“I asked you a dozen times to get Joan to do Oprah, and you didn’t do it.” He was looking at her now, speaking slowly and deliberately, “You’re fired.”

“I told you that was impossible.” Reinette’s false smile had vanished, a determined fire now blazing in her eyes. Rose, sensing that this wasn’t going to go over well, quickly moved to close the office door. “Joan hasn’t done an interview in 20 years.”

“That’s interesting.” John sauntered up to her desk, arrogant amusement coloring his tone. “I just got off the phone with her, and she is in.”

“Excuse me?” Rose could hear panic creeping into the other woman’s voice. 

“You didn’t even call her did you?” He frowned at her, picking up a stack of papers, glancing at it briefly before dropping it unceremoniously back on the desk.

“But…” Reinette shifted uncomfortably on her feet.

“I know, I know. Joan can be a little scary to deal with. For you.” Rose would have flinched at his patronizing tone if it weren’t for her extreme distaste for the other woman. Reinette was the one who had started the rumors about Rose shagging John whenever he demanded it of her. She felt no sympathy for her. “Now, I will give you two months to find another job. And then you can tell everyone you resigned. Ok?” He didn’t wait for her answer. Turning around, he headed towards Rose, silently commanding her to open the door and follow him out. Rose obeyed quickly, barely hearing him mutter under his breath, “What’s her twenty?”

Still following him around cubicles, Rose looked behind them. Reniette was pacing madly in her office, clearly talking to herself. “She’s on the move. She has crazy eyes.”

“Don’t do it Reinette, don’t do it.” John sighed heavily.

“You bloody bastard!” Reinette had stormed out of her office after them. Everyone in the office froze. Taking another deep breath, John turned to look at her. “You can’t fire me! You don’t think I see what you’re doing here? Sabotaging me on this Oprah thing so you can look good for the board. Because you are threatened by me!” She was screeching now. John looked down at his tie, disinterested, while Rose stood awkwardly to the side. The entire office was watching the exchange. “You are a monster.” Reinette spat out. 

“Reinette, stop.” John’s voice was quiet and calm, only half trying to prevent Reinette from making herself look more like a fool. Rose held her breath, John was buying his time. 

Reinette ignored his warning, mistaking his lack of reaction as a victory. “Just because you have no semblance of a life outside of this office, you think you can treat all of us as your own personal slaves.” For a moment Rose panicked, thinking Reinette would lash out, accusing him of his unfounded shagging relationship with her. Rose was fairly certain that he had no idea what people said about the two of them, either that or he steadfastly ignored it. “You know what? I feel sorry for you. Because you know what you are going to have on your deathbed? Nothing, and no one.” For a moment she looked triumphant, standing tall with her hands on her hips.

“Listen carefully, Reinette.” John had leaned himself against a cubicle at some point during her rant, but now stood up, bringing himself to his full height. He took a step forward and glared down at her. Rose was certain he was doing it for dramatic effect, well aware of all the eyes on him. “I didn’t fire you because I feel threatened. No. I fired you because you’re lazy, entitled, incompetent and you spend more time cheating on your husband than you do in the office.” Reinette’s eyes widened and her cheeks flushed crimson as she looked around nervously. John’s voice was ice as he continued. “And if you say another word, Rose here is going to have you thrown out, OK?” Rose tried her best to look intimidating. She was starting to feel a little sorry for Reinette, even though she had brought this on herself. “Another word and you’re going out of here with an armed escort. Rose will film it with her little camera phone and she’ll put it on that internet site. Oh, what’s it called?” John flicked a sideways glance at Rose, snapping and pointing a finger at her.

“Youtube?” Rose supplied. Reinette paled in response.

“Ha! That’s the one! Is that what you want?” He stared at Reinette, daring her to speak. Reinette had visibly shrunk and merely looked at the floor. “Didn’t think so. I have work to do.” John ended the conversation by heading back towards his office, Rose in tow. Immediately the office buzzed with activity, although Rose was fairly certain it was really chatter about what had just happened. “Call security, have them move her break front to my conference room.” He told her once they were out of ear shot. 

“Will do.” Rose thought that was a bit much, but kept her opinion to herself. She began to head to her tiny office that was connected to John’s, he had given her a long list today and so far no time to do any of it. 

Taking another sip of coffee, John tonelessly rattled off another demand. “I need you here this weekend, to go over her files and her manuscripts.”

“This weekend?” Rose turned to face him, trying to control the emotion in her voice.

“You have a problem with that?” He paused mid stride to face her, eyes still sparkling from the earlier face off. 

“No. I…just…it’s my gran’s 90th birthday, so I was gonna go home and…” Rose hesitated as a sneer contorted his face. “It’s fine. I’ll cancel it. You’re saving me from a weekend of misery really.” Without a word he walked away, rolling his eyes. “Good talk, yeah.” Rose muttered to his back. Groaning, she plopped in her chair and reached for the phone. Her mum was going to be right pissed. The phone was answered on the third ring.

“Hello.”

“Hi, mum. It’s me.” Rose tried to fake being cheerful.

“Oh Rose! I’m so glad you called! I have a favor to ask of you, when you come home this weekend.”

“Yeah, mum…about that. I won’t be able to make it.” Rose winced in preparation for her mum’s outrage.

“WHAT?! But Rose! You promised!” Rose had to pull the phone away from her ear.

“I know, I know. Ok? Tell Gran I’m sorry. What…Mum, what do you want me to tell you? He’s making me work the weekend.” 

“Well, you could tell that arse to piss off for one.” 

“No. I’m not…no.” Rose took a deep breath, it was the same old argument. 

“I’ve worked too hard for this promotion to throw it all away. I know you’re pissed.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw John heading her direction. “But we take all of our submissions around here seriously. We’ll get back to you as soon as we can.” She hung up the phone, she would pay for that later, and turned to John who was now standing in her doorway. She hadn’t fooled him.

“Was that your family?”

“Yes.” She glared at him.

“They tell you to quit?”

“Every single day.” Rose answered honestly. John appraised her for a moment. 

The phone rang and Rose angrily picked it up, turning away from him. “Mr. Noble’s office.” Listening for a moment, she nodded her head. “Yeah. Alright. Ok.” She slammed the phone back in place. Fake smile back on her face, she sweetly relayed the message. “Jones and de Souza want to see you upstairs.”

John ran a hand through his already unruly hair, making a frustrated sound in the back of his throat. “Ok. But come get me in ten minutes. We’ve got a lot to do. Can’t waste too much time with those buggers.” He fixed her with another of his patented stares, awaiting her acknowledgement.

“Ok.” She answered unenthusiastically, wondering if he would also like a salute.

 

John strode back out through the office to the lift, ignoring the fuss his earlier argument with Reinette had caused. If anything, it should help keep the rest of the employees in line for a while. Exiting the lift at the appropriate floor, he took a moment to straighten his tie before walking through the reception area. The petite brunette receptionist looked up from her computer screen and smiled. “Good morning Mr. Noble.” He purposefully ignored her, didn’t even look at her, and marched straight for the doors, entering without knocking. She could only frown at his back, she hadn’t expected a response in the first place.

“Harriet, Christina.” John nodded to each of them. Harriet was seated behind the desk, hands laced just under her chin. The slightly older woman had brown hair and a stately air about her. Her cream colored outfit stood out against the black chair she sat in. Christina stood off to the side, arms crossed over her chest. Her straight almost jet hair hung well past her shoulders, and she made a show of flicking it behind her as John greeted her. She was younger than Harriet and extremely cunning. John appreciated her intelligence but had a distaste for her impulsiveness and inability to think for herself.

“Congratulations on the Oprah thing.” Harriet grinned.

“That’s terrific news.” Christina chimed in. How Christina managed to become partner at this company, John would always wonder. She was always seeking attention, paraphrasing whatever Harriet said just to make herself noticeable.

“Thank you, thank you.” John beamed at them. “This isn’t about my second raise is it?” Harriet’s grin grew wider, but Christina’s eyes bulged in a panic. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” Christina relaxed while Harriet continued talking.

“John, do you remember when we agreed you wouldn’t go to the Frankfurt book fair because we wanted you to work on your visa renewal?” Harriet dropped her hands into her lap, fixing John with a serious gaze.

“Yes, I do.” John admitted, nervously tugging on his ear. What was this all about? They had properly chewed him out over that already. Surely, this still wasn’t an issue.

“And…you went anyway.” Harriet’s tone had become berating. John bit the inside of his cheek, trying to keep down the rising anger.

“Yes. We were going to lose DeLillo to Viking. Didn’t have much of choice did I? We got quite the nice profit from that one too, if I remember right. Which, being me…I do.” He was not going to apologize for his actions, he made the right choice then and he would do it the same way again. And he’d be damned if he was going to stand here and let Harriet continue to scold him like a child.

“Seems the British government doesn’t care much who publishes Don DeLillo. We just spoke to your immigration attorney.”

A grin broke out across John’s face, and he clapped his hands, rubbing them together. “Great! So we’re all good. Everything good?”

“John,” Harriet shook her head ever so slightly, “Your visa has been denied.”

“What?”

“You’re being deported.” Christina spoke up, ever so helpful.

“What?!” John’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull, he couldn’t believe this. “Deported?!”

Harriet cleared her throat uncomfortably. “There was something wrong with your paperwork. Usually, in this kind of scenario, they offer some leeway. Give you an opportunity to fix your mistakes. However, the girl who took your paperwork said you turned it in at the last minute...and were exceedingly rude.”

“Come on.” John groaned and began pacing frantically, angrily tugging at his hair. “Come on! I’m not even really an immigrant. I’m from Canada for crying out loud. They’re looking for criminals and terrorists, not book editors! And that…that…girl, must be mistaken. The office had five more minutes before closing! So I waited till the last day to turn it in? I still made it.” He took in a deep shuddering breath, turning back towards Harriet. “There…there must be something we can do.”

“We can reapply, but unfortunately you would still have to leave the country. At least until you got your new Visa. Not sure how long that would take. We’ll hold a place for you here until it all gets sorted.” Harriet opened her mouth to continue, but John didn’t notice.

“Ok. Ok, well that’s not ideal.” Perhaps there was hope for this situation after all. “I can manage everything from Toronto…”

“No.” Harriet tried to cut him off.

“…what with video conferencing, the internet.” John’s mind was racing with ideas of how to make it all work out.

“Unfortunately,” Harriet’s authoritative voice cut through the chaos in John’s mind, “if you’re deported you can’t work for us. And as I said, we will hold a place for you here in the interim. And this time John, we would want you to become a citizen, which will take five years. Until this is resolved I’m going to turn operations over to Reinette Poisson.”

“R-reinette? Reinette Poisson?” John spluttered. “The woman I just fired?!” He fought harder to control the anger that continued to bubble up inside of him.

“We need an editor in chief” Christina calmly replied. “She is the only person in the entire building with enough experience.”

“You cannot be serious. I beg of you.” Despite his words, his tone was anything but humble. The flash in Harriet’s eyes told him she detected the scorn behind his statement. Before she could answer, there was a knock, which was more ceremony than anything else, and then the door was opened, a blonde head peering in to the room. 

“Excuse me, but we are in a meeting.” Christina snapped.

“Sorry to interrupt.” Rose’s voice was a little uncertain as she looked from Harriet to Christina, all she could see of John was his rigid back and tense shoulders. The tension in the room was palpable, she hid her discomfort and urge to shuffle her feet by stepping further into the room, one hand still gripping the door.

“What? What?!” John spun to face her, eyes wild and hair more out of control than usual.

Rose cleared her throat to gather her thoughts. For a moment she had felt a touch of concern, but quickly remembered what a right arse John always was and brushed the concern aside. She would try and do as he asked, no demanded, and that’s all. “Rickey from Mr. Alastair’s office called. He’s on the line.”

“I know.” John grated between clenched teeth. Everyone in the office continued to stare at her.

“He’s on hold. He needs to speak to you.” Rose’s eyes flitted from John for a moment to Harriet, who was watching her now with a hint of amusement. She shifted her eyes back to John, trying to get a handle as to whether or not she had played her role to his satisfaction. “I told him you were otherwise engaged. He insisted…so…sorry.” John’s eyes had widened but were now squinted in concentration; she could practically see the gears turning in his head. “So…” she tried again, trailing off and beginning to back out of the room.

“Come here.” Rose froze for a moment, surprised at his sudden command. 

John’s face smoothed out, and he beckoned her closer with frantic hand motions. Only once she timidly stepped in his direction did he turn back towards the other women. “Ladies, I understand. I understand the predicament we are in.” He nervously tugged downward on the bottom of his suit jacket, stumbling over his words as the idea slowly formed in his head. “And…and there’s…well…I think there’s something you should know.” Rose was now standing beside him, hands clasped in front of her. She was trying desperately to figure out what was going on, John never rambled like this. Endless talking that seemed to go nowhere, yes. But short words that honestly had no meaning, that wasn’t him. 

He awkwardly reached behind her and gripped her shoulder. She snapped her head around to look at him, but he was carefully avoiding her gaze. He silently prayed that Rose went along with him. The idea came from her words after all. He had no other choice, he was desperate and as much as he hated it, his fate was in her hands now. “We’re getting married.” John was quiet at first, once more tugging on his ear with his free hand. “We are getting married.” He repeated a little more forceful. Harriet and Christina exchanged a surprised look. He felt Rose stiffen under his grip. Fake smile plastered on his face, he angled his head to look at her.

“Who-who is getting married?” Rose was thankfully following his lead, her own smile echoing the emotionless tone of his. Her mind had gone blank as soon as the words spilled from his lips the first time. Surely he must be joking, or talking about someone else she thought frantically to herself. Seeing the pleading look in his eyes now, she wasn’t so sure.

“You and I.” He coughed. “You and I are getting married. Yes. We are getting married.” John began nodding his head empathetically, while Rose muttered ‘we are’ in disbelief, obviously trying not to show her shock at what he had just done. He ignored her, turning back to Harriet. “We are. Yes. Married. We are getting married.” John was shaking her gently, abruptly releasing her, as if he just realized that he had touched her in the first place. 

“Isn’t she your secretary?” Harriet’s icy tone cut through Rose’s daze.

“Assistant.” Rose corrected and shot her a heated look.

“Executive…assistant secretary. Titles and all that. But…” John pointedly looked at Christina while resuming his earlier pacing. “It wouldn’t be the first time one of us fell for our secretaries. Would it, Christina? With Ian? Remember?” Christina’s face had gone sheet white, her mouth desperately working, trying to come up with something. Harriet hid a laugh with a muffled cough into her hand. Arguments silenced for now, John decided to press on. He was never very good at this…this relationship stuff. He had to try and convince them. “So yes…marriage. See..erm…the truth is. Rose and I…” He chanced a glance at her. She stood motionless, face carefully composed and clearly waiting for him to finish playing this out. He inhaled a shaky breath, trying to speak again. “Rose and I, we’re…we are just two people who weren’t meant to fall in love. But we did.”

“No.” Rose was now slowly shaking her head.

“All those late nights at the office and weekend book fairs.” 

“No.” She had to be dreaming, maybe she was still asleep in her bed. 

“Yeah.” John replied softly, he had stopped pacing and was now coming towards her. “Something happened.”

“Something.” Rose muttered sarcastically. She watched him warily as he came back to stand beside her.

“Yeah…tried to fight it. Can’t fight a…” he hesitated, placing a long arm around her waist. Rose’s eyes popped wider, shocked at the more intimate contact. John continued to stare into her eyes, brain scrambling for a way to finish this, legs aching to bolt out the office door. “Can’t fight a love like ours.” Rose searched his face, looking for an explanation. He squeezed her hip, trying to reassure her and get her to continue to just go with it. The last thing he needed was an outburst from her right now. Pretending he hadn’t heard her tiny gasp and avoiding her eyes which were filling with anger, he twisted his head back to Harriet. “So…we good with this? Are we happy? Because we’re happy. Oh so, so happy.” He flashed a brilliant smile, hiding the panic rising in his chest once again.

“John.”

“Hmmm?” He didn’t trust himself to speak.

“It’s fantastic.” She arched an eyebrow at him and held up her left hand, wiggling her ring finger. “Just make it legal.”

“Legal.” John released Rose, smacking his forehead with the heel of his palm. “Right! Legal! That means we…we need to get ourselves over to the immigration office. So we can work this whole mess out.” John absentmindedly bopped Rose on the nose. She tried her best not to slap him, instead she gave the two women a nervous smile. “Right, Rose?” She bit her lip and silently nodded her agreement.

Exhaling in relief, he placed a hand on the small of her back and began pushing her toward the door. “Ladies. Thank you very much.” John spared a quick glance over his shoulder. “Thank you. Ladies. We will, that is, Rose and I…we will do that right away. Thank you, ladies.” He shoved Rose over the threshold and pulled the door shut behind them.

He kept his hand on her back as they walked through the reception area back into the marble hallway. Rose had tried a couple times to turn her head and ask him what in the hell was going on. Each time, John merely stared straight ahead and told her to keep walking. Harriet’s office was at the opposite end of the hall from the lifts. The only sound was the clicking of Rose’s heels and the muffled thumps of John’s trainers on the cool floor.

Rose was positively seething. He had always taken advantage of her to some degree. She knew it, and she hated it. But she sucked it up and did what she had to in order to keep her job. This however, was a new low for him. Engaged? Who the bloody hell did he think he was? He was lucky she hadn’t made a fool out of him right then and there. She had made an impulse decision to play along, and she was now wondering if that had been such a good idea. Her back itched where he still had his hand, continuing to guide her down the hall. She remembered his hand on her hip in Harriet’s office. Playing the part she understood, but going that far when the other party involved was unaware of the situation…that irked her more than anything else. He had no right to lay his hands on her in such a manner without her permission. Well if he wasn’t going to explain, then she was going to make it perfectly clear how she felt. 

Stopping without warning, John bumped into her now stationary form. He removed his hand from her lower back and spun to face her. His chocolate eyes had gone dark with boiling anger. He had the briefest moment to register the raging fire burning in hers. Without a second thought, she pulled her arm back and then swung forward. The sound of her palm connecting with his cheek echoed down the still thankfully empty hall. He staggered back a step, disoriented, and rubbed his cheek with his left hand. Rose memorized the stunned look on his face, complete with the glowing red mark discoloring his features. Brushing past him without another word, she strode toward the lift, head held high. John had no choice but to follow her, still cradling his face in one hand.


	2. Coming to Terms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had such an overwhelmingly great reaction from people, that I decided to go ahead and post the second chapter! Updates probably won't be this close again. I do promise to update at least once a week though, more if I can.
> 
> Thanks again to the wonderful bittie752!

Rose’s mind was reeling from what just happened. She needed a moment to calm down and process the whole thing. She was furious, but at the same time didn’t want to risk losing her job. Although, her slap to her boss’s face probably didn’t help her case. John had kept his mouth shut, for once. Neither of them spoke or even looked at each other during the lift ride back down to their floor. Once it opened, John was once again walking in front, his face returned to its normal stony mask and freckled coloring. 

The earlier excitement over the incident with Reinette had been replaced by the news of the new engagement. Rose could feel eyes following her and John as they made their way back to his office. Hushed whispers flooded her ears. She felt sick. They would never believe her now. Their ‘engagement’ was only fueling the unfounded rumors of her sex life with John.

John marched across the floor, ignoring the new flurry of gossip he had inadvertently caused. He went straight into his office, making a bee-line to the chair behind his desk. He heard Rose softly close the door behind her. He had dodged a bullet upstairs with Harriet and Christina. Now he just had to follow through, and make sure Rose didn’t back out on him. He still couldn’t believe she had actually slapped him. A small part of him knew he had deserved it. Sitting down he grabbed a manuscript off the pile and began to remove the clips and rubber bands securing the work together. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Rose tentatively approach his desk. She stood there, silently, waiting for him to acknowledge her.

Letting out an irritated sigh, he looked up. “What?” Without waiting for her response he looked back down at the now loose stack of papers and began skimming them, flipping pages over as he finished.

“I…I-“ Rose was now beyond confused. John had just announced that they were engaged, but was now seemingly engrossed in his work. He had made no mention of the slap either. Did he really think she wasn’t going to say anything? Taking a deep breath, she started again, trying to remain calm. “I don’t understand what’s going on.”

“Relax.” He instructed her, without looking up from his desk. “This is for you too.”

“Well explain it then.” She snapped back.

“They were going to make Reinette chief.” John simply shrugged his shoulders and continued to work.

“So naturally, that would mean I have to marry you?” Rose’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. What exactly was he trying to pull?

“What’s the problem? Like you were saving yourself for someone, what? Special?” He snorted at the very idea, still not bothering to look at her.

“First of all, my personal life is none of your business. And secondly, yeah, actually. I would like to think so.” She gripped the back of the chair in front of her, knuckles turning white. “Besides, it’s illegal.”

John scoffed at her protests. “They’re looking for terrorists, not for book publishers. Honestly, this whole thing is ridiculous really. Deport me? What for? I may be a lot of things, but a terrorist is definitely not one of them.”

“John.” Rose’s tone was firm and full of resolve, he wasn’t going to ramble his way out of this one.

“Yes?” 

“I am NOT going to marry you.” There, she had said it. It had been threatening to tear at her throat and burst from her lips the whole time they had been in Harriet’s office. Her relief was short lived.

“Yes you are. Because if you don’t marry me, your dream of touching millions and millions of lives with the written word are dead.” He finally looked up, smug look on his face, daring her to argue. Rose’s jaw dropped and she stared at him in horror. This was all a joke, a really bad joke. She felt as if her fingers were going to rip through the fabric of the chair at any second. She absently wondered if it would be more satisfying to choke John with his tie or with fabric from one of his beloved office chairs. An arrogant smile passed his lips before he continued. “Reinette is going to fire you the second I’m gone. Guaranteed. That means you’re out on the street, alone. That means you have to find a new job. That means all the late nights, all the cancelled dates, all the various banana runs were for nothing. Your dreams of being an editor are gone, poof, vanished.” He barely paused for breath as Rose gaped at him, disbelief in her eyes. “Don’t worry, after the required allotment of time, hopefully not the full five years mind you, we’ll get a quickie divorce and you’ll be done with me. I won’t bother you ever again. But, until that time, whether you like it or not, I’m afraid your wagon is hitched to mine. Okay?” Rose remained silent. The phone beeped in the background. Deciding the conversation was over, John pointed to the noisy object and stared Rose down. “Phone’s ringing.”

It was all Rose could do to keep from crying the rest of the morning. She felt helpless. John had basically black mailed her, and she could see no way around it. Close to lunch hour, John poked his head into her office to inform her that they would be taking the rest of the day off. They needed to get down to the immigration office pronto, he had frowned at the last word, silently vowing never to use it again. She decided she would make the most of the situation. After her disastrous relationship with Jimmy, she had vowed never to let a man make her feel so stupid and helpless ever again. Somehow she would regain some control. Gritting her teeth, she grabbed her hand bag and left her office, steeling herself for what was sure to be an awkward car ride.

The immigration office was packed. People were everywhere. The uncomfortable plastic chairs were all occupied, and the line to the counter was almost out the door. John huffed impatiently as Rose took in her surroundings. She was so engrossed in looking at all the people, that she nearly missed John striding up towards the front, bypassing the line. Groaning inwardly, she hurried to catch up. All eyes were on them as they waited up by the counter, clearly not waiting their turn in the appropriate manner. Rose fidgeted on the spot under the scrutiny, mouthing silent apologies to those that caught her gaze. John paid them no mind, his attention was fully focused on the gentleman currently at the counter. John was leaning casually on the counter, hiding the fact that he was coiled like a predator waiting to pounce. 

The slightly overweight man finally thanked the immigration officer behind the counter and walked away. John wasted no time seizing the opportunity. He seamlessly slid up to the counter, placing the paperwork he had brought down on the counter. Rose tried her best to convey her apologies to the woman they had just cut off. She received nothing but an icy glare in return. “I need you to file this fiancée visa for me. Please.” The please was nothing more than an afterthought, and the stocky blonde employee let out an audible sigh while rolling his eyes.

“Mr. Noble?” The man had scanned over John’s paperwork, a satisfied smirk replacing his disgruntled expression.

“That’s me.”

“Come with me.” The man turned and walked down the length of the counter. Rose looked up at John with a surprised questioning look in her eyes. He shrugged, slightly frowning and trying to hide the same sense of surprise that she was conveying. Jerking his head toward the employee, he walked to where the man was waiting now on the other side of the counter. The man didn’t tell them where he was taking them. Once they were close enough, he lead them down a maze of halls and doors.

He stopped at a glass door, with the departments official seal being the only marking Rose could see. He held the door open and ushered them both into the tiny office. There was an extremely cluttered and unorganized desk in front of a cheap looking granite counter that lined one of the walls. The counter was equally covered in junk. Several file cabinets sat at odd intervals along the otherwise empty walls. Boxes and paperwork littered every available surface. John shuddered at the chaos of it all. How could anyone find anything in this mess? 

“Wait here.” The blond man ordered before shutting the door and walking off.

Rose sat in one of the two beaten and worn tan canvas chairs. At least it was better than the even cheaper plastic ones out in the main lobby. She absently picked at her skirt, eyes trying find some sense of order to the paper explosion in the office. John stood by the door. This was a waste of time, he had more important things to be doing. Being stuck in some shoddy immigration office was not how he had planned on spending his afternoon. Thrusting his hands into his pockets, he lightly bounced from one foot to the other. He pulled out his phone, desperate for something to do. Might as well answer some work emails while they waited.

After another few minutes, a quiet knock sounded at the door. Rose looked up to see John trying to maneuver out of the way in the cramped space. The man at the door was also blond, but was younger and thinner than the man that had escorted them. Slightly shorter than John, he had the beginning of a five o’clock shadow and his hazel eyes sparkled with a desire for mischief that didn’t match his neutral expression. Dressed in a simple black suit and tie, he pushed the door open.

“Hello. I’m Agent Saxon.” He said in a smooth voice, fully entering the office before closing the door. “You must be John.” He then turned to Rose, eyes openly roaming her body. She inwardly shuddered and clenched her jaw. “And you, my dear, must be Rose.” 

John hadn’t missed the way the other man’s eyes traveled over Rose’s form. To her credit, she said nothing, merely nodding at him in acknowledgment of his correct assumption of her name. Even though John had no interest in Rose what so ever, he was disgusted by the man’s conduct. He pointedly cleared his throat, drawing the man’s attention. “Mr. Sexon, we are in a bit of a hurry. So the sooner we get this over with, the better.”

The agent’s eyes dilated, he had understood John’s unspoken threat that lay in the intentional mispronunciation of his name. “It’s Saxon. And yes, yes of course. I do apologize for the wait.” He raised his free hand, the other appeared to be holding John’s application, in the air a bit and grimaced, “It’s been a crazy day.” He walked around the desk and sat in his chair, placing John’s stack of papers in front of him.

John puffed up, elated that his jab had served its purpose. Now it was time to get down to business, so that he could get the hell out of here. “Thank you so much for seeing us on such short notice. It’s brilliant really.”

Mr. Saxon didn’t reply at first. He flipped through papers with one hand while tapping out a beat with the other, tap-tap-tap-tap. Rose shifted nervously in her seat. John still stood behind her, phone in his hand. “Soooo, I have a question for you.” Mr. Saxon looked up, a vicious smile dominating his features. “Are you two committing fraud? Trying to avoid his deportation so that he can maintain his prestigious position at Kasterborous Books?” He fixed them both with an accusatory stare.

Rose stiffened for a split second before barking out a laugh. “That’s ridiculous!”

“W-where did you hear that?” John demanded. For a moment he had thought Rose was going to buckle under the pressure. Once again, she had surprised him.

“We had a phone tip early this morning, from a woman named…” Mr. Saxon trailed off, violently flipping through pages trying to find the answer.

John chuckled. “Would it be Reinette Poisson?”

Mr. Saxon looked at his information, then back to John, slightly confused. “Reniette Poisson.”

John shook his head, body shaking with silent laughter. He really should have seen this one coming. “Oh…poor, poor Reinette. Reinette is nothing more than a disgruntled worker, well, ex-worker really. Former employee of mine. I fired her. Just this morning. She’s lazy and entitled. And apparently a bit spiteful. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Well, can’t be helped. We know you’re incredibly busy here with…with…ordinary people to deal with.” Rose flinched at his sudden depreciating tone. “If you could just give us our next step, we will be on our way and out of your hair.” John finished with a dazzling smile, hoping Mr. Saxon would follow his lead and let them leave.

Mr. Saxon returned John’s smile and pointed to the seat beside Rose. “Mr. Noble. Please, do sit down. I’m afraid it’s not quite that simple.” With a resigned sigh, John obeyed. Clasping his hands and leaning forward Mr. Saxon continued. “Let me explain to you how this is going to work. Step one, we will schedule an interview, for each of you. You will be placed into a tiny, tiny room…individually. And you will be asked a series of questions. Questions that a real couple would be able to answer. Favorite items, daily routines, typical behaviors…that sort of thing.” He paused for dramatic effect. John and Rose stared at him silently, neither wanting to give anything away.

“Step two, I dig deeper. Delve into personal records. Question friends, family, neighbors, co-workers. Anyone who has had any sort of interaction with you. IF, if your answer do not, I repeat, do not match up at any point, then you,” he pointed a finger at John, “you will be deported. Indefinitely.” He sneered, then jabbed the offending finger in Rose’s direction. “And you, miss, will have committed a felony. Punishable by a hefty fine, and a minimum of five years in prison.” He smiled like a mad man, flicking his eyes between the pair seated in front of him. Rose felt like she had been splashed with a bucket of cold water. Panic rushed through her veins. She could feel John’s nervous gaze watching her intently, waiting for her to break. She watched an armed man escort a struggling woman down the hall through the glass door. She slowly turned her attention back to Mr. Saxon. He took on a placating demeanor. “So…Rose, darling. Is there anything you would like to tell me? Hmm? Come on. You can talk to me.” He winked at her, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

Rose made up her mind. She shook her head.

“No? Are you sure?” Mr. Saxon’s smile faltered for an instant.

Rose continued to shake her head, pleased that this was irritating Mr. Saxon while also making John twitch beside her. Serves them both right, she thought.

“Rosie, just tell me. It’ll be better for everyone.” Mr. Saxon pleaded with her. However, the use of an unwanted nickname from the bugger, did nothing but solidify Rose’s decision.

Rose smiled sweetly and smoothed down her skirt. “The truth is, Mr. Saxon.” He leaned across his desk further, no doubt expecting a confession. John sat a little straighter in his chair, clenching and unclenching his fists. “The truth is…John and I,” she turned toward John, placing a hand on his arm causing his eyebrows to shoot up almost into his hair line, “we’re just two people who weren’t meant to fall in love, but we did.” John’s eyes sparkled with amusement at hearing her echo the same words he had used in Harriet’s office. Fake love sick expressions on their faces, they both turned to look at Mr. Saxon. Flinging himself back in his chair, dragging his hands down his face, he shook his head in frustration and disbelief. 

“We couldn’t tell anyone we worked with, because of my big promotion coming up.” Rose continued. If John was going to use her, then she was going to use him. She was going to get something out of the whole ordeal and get back some degree of control. John squirmed under her grip, and she bit back a smile. 

“Promotion?” Mr. Saxon questioned, drawing Rose’s attention.

“Yes. My promotion. I…that is we.” she glanced briefly at John, smiling sheepishly and fluttering her eyelashes before turning back to Mr. Saxon and continuing. “We thought it would be deeply inappropriate for me to be promoted to editor while we were…well…you know.” Rose tilted her head slightly to the side, still smiling, and brushed her thumb gently up and down on John’s arm.

“Editor…” John tonelessly echoed. Blimey she was good at this. She was playing her part to perfection, and using him in the process. For a moment he thought he had bit off more than he could chew. Mentally he shook himself, he could handle Rose Tyler.

Mr. Saxon cleared his throat. “Fine. Fine. Have you two told your parents about your…secret love affair?” He picked up a pen and began taking notes on John’s paperwork.

Rose noticed a flicker of pain in John’s eyes before he forced a small chuckle. “That’s impossible. My parents are dead. No brothers or sisters either.” John’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“Hmm. How convenient.” Mr. Saxon turned his attention to Rose. “And you? Your parents dead too?”

“No, not dead.” John had answered for her. Rose continued to smile and nod along. “Her parents are very much alive. In fact…” He moved the arm not in Rose’s grip so that he could place a hand on top of hers. He looked over at her, squeezing her hand and giving her a sly smile. Two could play her little game, never mind the fact that this whole thing was his fault to start with. He kept his eyes locked on her face, wanting to see her reaction. “We were planning on telling them this weekend.” Rose’s eyes nearly popped out of her skull, she gripped his arm tighter. He waggled his eyebrows at her, delighted with her reaction. He faced Mr. Saxon again. “It’s her Gran’s 90th birthday. Whole family will be there, nice big audience. Thought it would be a nice surprise. Isn’t that right, Rose?” He was pleased to note that she was still in shock, only nodding her silent agreement.

“Fascinating. And where is this…celebration going to take place?”

“At Rose’s parent’s house of course.”

“And where is that again?” Mr. Saxon was firing questions rapidly now, trying to catch one of them in a trap.

John momentarily panicked. He had no idea where Rose’s parent’s lived. He had worked with her for years, but knew next to nothing about her. How did that happen? He wasn’t around to make friends, but he was usually very observant nonetheless. Yet he could think of very little that he actually knew about the woman sitting beside him. The man leering at him across the desk snapped John back to the problem at hand. “Listen to me. Going off about a family that isn’t mine. Well, not yet anyway.” He winked at Rose, playing the part of excited fiancée. “That’s me for you. Gob that never stops. Rose, why don’t you tell him? You know you can always interrupt me. You obviously know their house better anyway.” He finished with a dazzling smile, gently pinching her hand, trying frantically to clear her head of the shock he had found so amusing moments ago.

“Of course. How silly of me? My parent’s house.” Rose started off slowly. She was starting to feel sick to her stomach. John’s declaration of announcing their forced engagement at her parent’s house, in front of all her friends and family, was greatly unsettling. However, she had no choice at the moment but to go along with it. She was fairly certain John had no idea where her family actually lived. She angled her head so that she was making eye contact with Mr. Saxon, but so she could still watch John out of the corner of her eye. “Sitka.”

“Sitka.” John mimicked, grin still plastered on his face.

“Alaska.” Rose finished.

“A-alaskaaa.” John drew out the last syllable longer than necessary. Rose detected the silent question from his tone, and the somewhat puzzled expression he was trying to hide. “Alaska.” He said again.

“It’s really their vacation home. Spend almost half the year there. The other half here in London. Gran prefers it out there though for some reason. Some nonsense about connecting with nature.” Rose quickly filled in, before John said something that would screw the whole thing up.

John stroked her hand with his own. “Yes, yes. That’s her Gran for you. Crazy…silly…Gran.” Rose pulled her hand away from him, awkwardly patting his hand before doing so.

Mr. Saxon groaned. “Right. I see. Have it your way then.” He smirked dangerously at them, scribbling something on a spare piece of paper. “I expect to see you both back here, Monday morning at 10 am.” He stood up and held out the piece of paper. “Your answers better match up perfectly. I’m not lying when I tell you that I am greatly looking forward to it.” John’s phone vibrated in his pocket and he quickly fished it out without answering him. He put the phone to his ear, beginning to speak and headed for the door.

“We’re looking forward to it as well.” Rose answered with a smile, taking the paper and following John out of the cramped office.

Rose and John once again walked in tense silence until they had exited the building. Rose’s head was beginning to pound as the severity of the situation settled on her. She rubbed her temples as John walked beside her down the sidewalk, tinkering with his phone. 

“So, here’s how it’s going to work.” John began to rattle off instructions, approaching it like a business deal. “We will go out there, pretending to be boyfriend and girlfriend of course. That kind of goes without saying, given our current predicament. Anyway, we will then announce our engagement. Oh! Don’t forget to use frequent flyer miles for the tickets. And I suppose I can allow you to fly first class. What kind of fiancée would I be if I made you fly coach while I flew first class? Just don’t forget to use the miles, otherwise you can ride with the luggage for all I care.” John slowed to a stop, furiously punching out keys on his phone and rambling about bananas on the flight. Rose bit her tongue, his beyond rude comments and detached attitude grating on her last remaining nerve. He noticed that she was still walking away. “Hey! What are you doing? Why aren’t you taking notes? Did you forget your work things at the office? This is important!”

“Important?!” Rose hissed, turning and stepping towards him. “Were you not listening back there?”

“What? What are you-oh! OH! Right. The promotion!” He shoved his phone back into his pocket, then pointed his finger at her, shaking up and down. “That was actually rather brilliant. Bravo to good thinking on your feet. He completely bought it! I actually almost believed you for second myself, if I’m being honest.” Shoving both his hands into his trouser pockets, he stood there grinning stupidly at her. Rose had the overwhelming desire to slap him for a second time.

“I was being serious.” She dead panned. His grin fell from his face, and he arched a questioning eyebrow at her. “In case you weren’t paying attention to the list of punishments I could be facing, they are quite a bit more than a forceful relocation. That changes the whole deal.”

John appraised her for a moment, then shook his head, chuckling. “Seriously? Promote you? To editor? Not a chance.”

Rose almost screamed at him, but decided a more subtle approach would be better. “Fine. Your way then. I quit. I quit and you’re screwed. Bye John.” She turned on her heel and began to stroll away. She left him gaping on the sidewalk, knowing it was only a matter of time.

John watched as she threaded her way through the crowd. He weighed his options. He could do it the legal way…which would take God knew how long. Or…he groaned. Rose had left him with no other choice, and he was sure she knew it. She was turning out to be more intelligent than he often gave her credit for. Not that he ever thought she was dull, he just never saw her behave in this kind of environment before. He made his choice and dashed after her, yelling her name.

Slender fingers gripped her elbow with a firm underlying strength she hadn’t suspected. Oh she knew it was him, she had heard him shouting her name like a right nutter. It was the grip that surprised her, as if she could feel his hidden anxiety seeping into her arm through his fingers. Slowly, she turned to face him.

“Rose, wait. If that’s how you want to play this then fine. Fine. I’ll-I’ll…” John grimaced before becoming serious and started over. “I’ll make you editor. If, and only if, you do the Alaska weekend and the immigration interview. Notice the ‘and’, the ‘and’ is very important. Do both of those and I give you my word that I will make you editor. Happy?” John’s eyes narrowed, observing her reaction.

Rose didn’t hesitate. “Not in two years. Right away. As soon as I complete my end of the deal, you make me editor.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Fine.”

“And you publish my manuscript.”

John gaped at her. Recovering quickly he shrugged his shoulders and mumbled his answer. “Ten thousand copies first run.”

“Twenty thousand.” Rose countered. Bargaining with him like this was a bit exhilarating. He wasn’t so threatening once the playing field was leveled. With a heavy sigh, John nodded his agreement and finally released her. She wasn’t through with him just yet. “And-“

“What? There’s more?!” John cut her off, indignation written all over his face.

“If you would please just shut up and stop being rude for two seconds.” Rose’s words shocked him into silence. Not for the first time, she got the impression he wasn’t used to being told what to do. “We will tell my family how I want and when I want. Now,” her face broke out into a grin and her eyes danced with pleasure, “ask me nicely.”

“What? Ask you nicely what?” John’s confusion only encouraged her. 

Rose moved so that there was hardly any distance between the two of them. He had invaded her bubble, now it was time for pay back. Gingerly, she fingered his tie before gripping it tightly and pulling his head down just enough. He had watched her with wary eyes that popped wide as she tugged at his tie. His breath caught and he bent down, completely at her mercy. His mind was surprisingly blank, save for trying to figure out what to do with his useless arms. With a predatory grin, Rose leaned in just a bit and whispered seductively in his ear. “Ask me nicely to marry you, John.”

Rose pulled away, dropping his tie. John openly stared at her for a moment, mouth hanging open. His face screwed up in concentration before he spoke. “I-I…What does that mean?”

Rose giggled. “It means…on your knee.” She pointed to the dirty concrete in front of her, smiling innocently at him.

John’s eyebrows shot up and he grumbled something to himself in frustration. He looked around, there were people everywhere. Someone he knew was bound to be watching. He shifted nervously from foot to foot, tugging at his ear. This was a bad idea. A very bad idea. He looked at the ground and frowned. His suit would need a thorough cleaning afterwards. Looking back at Rose he saw her still smiling at him, patient yet expectant. He took a deep breath and rubbed the back of his neck, trying to calm his nerves. This spot was extremely public, nothing good would come of this he was sure. 

“Fine. Alright. I’ll do it.” He tried to smile and make his tone light. Rose’s grin grew even wider. He had no doubt that she was enjoying this immensely. He shook his arms out, then made a show of slowly lowering himself to the ground. Hands resting on the leg that was propped up, he angled his head to peer at Rose standing above him. “Is this acceptable? Does this work for you?”

“Oh, yes. This is definitely working for me.” Rose made no effort to hide her amusement.

“Good, great…bloody brilliant.” A few people began to eye the pair curiously as they walked by. Even better, John thought. Ready to get the whole thing over with, he looked back at Rose and blurted out, “Will you marry me?” He began to rise up, but was stopped from a disapproving noise Rose was making as she shook her head.

“Again.” She ordered. “And John, say it like you mean it.” She gave him a different sort of grin then. One he hadn’t seen before, her eyes dancing with amusement and a silent challenge, her tongue poking out between her teeth. Unwillingly, his eyes zeroed in on the teasing object.

He drew in an unsteady breath, aware that people were now stopping to watch. “Rose.”

“Yes?”

“My dear, beautiful Rose.” He was faking the emotion, but noticed the slight widening of her eyes. Most likely didn’t expect me capable of niceties he thought bitterly to himself. He remembered why he was doing this in the first place, changing his gentle tone to one laced with sarcasm. “Pretty please, with bananas on top, will you marry me?” A couple people in the small crowd giggled.

Rose crossed her arms, and appeared to be seriously considering the question, drawing out the silence as long as possible. She was aware of the audience they had gathered, and she wanted to keep John in his kneeling position as long as she could. Noticing him beginning twitch, she figured she had tortured him enough, for the time being at least. “Ok. I don’t appreciate the added sarcasm, but I’ll do it. My answer is yes.”

John stood up and brushed the dirt off his knees, grumbling under his breath. The crowd murmured their displeasure at the anti-climactic ending, and John felt his cheeks began to turn pink. “Now Rose-“ he was silenced by her finger on his lips. Once again, he found himself in close proximity to her and no idea what to do with his limbs.

“Hush. I will see you at the airport first thing in the morning. I trust you will arrange for a car to pick me up?” She noticed the panicky look in his eyes and winked at him. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. See you tomorrow, yeah?”

She stepped back from him before turning and walking away. John was rooted to the spot, unsure of what just happened. He was about to head home when she called to him over her shoulder.

“John? You better have my ring with you tomorrow. Mum will be expecting a ring.” Flashing him another cheeky smile, she blended in with the crowd before he had a chance to answer.

His stomach dropped. A ring? Bloody hell. What in the world had he gotten himself into. How was he supposed to find a ring on such short notice? A small idea formed in his mind. It made him greatly uncomfortable, but was seeing little other options available. Dragging a hand down his face, he walked off in the opposite direction.


	3. Journey's Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to bittie752 for her help!

Rose and John met at the airport the next morning, inclining their heads in wordless greeting. John was wearing what appeared to be the same brown pinstripe suit from yesterday. She knew better, had done his dry cleaning enough to know he owned multiples of the same suit. Today he had on a white oxford and another complimenting brown and blue tie, this time a basic striped pattern instead of swirls. His white trainers finished off the bottom of his look as predictably as his wildly styled hair started it. Rose, knowing she was going to be on the plane for hours, and having to put up with him for the same amount of time, had dressed for comfort. Her purple jumper was mostly hidden by the dark grey hoodie she had grabbed from the back of her closet. She had pulled her hair back in a loose pony tail, and a comfy yet well-fitting pair of jeans and a pair of her own white trainers completed her casual look. She inwardly sneered at how they unintentionally matched their shoes. He probably hadn’t even noticed. Truth be told, he hadn’t. 

They had made it through the terminal with no hang ups, and still no conversation. After boarding their first flight, Rose sat in the window seat next to John. She had never flown first class before. Her family had the money, but she always refused when they tried to offer it to her. Now that she was here, she was too nervous to truly enjoy it. Her sleep the night before had been restless at best. She couldn’t help but replay the previous day’s events over and over in her head. She felt she had handled it rather well, even pushed her limits in parts if she was honest. Now that they were getting closer and closer to her family with each passing minute, she was having a hard time keeping the anxiety at bay.

For his part, John didn’t seem bothered by anything. His calm, collected exterior made it nearly impossible for her to believe that she had flustered him at all yesterday. Instead of helping her calm down, his tranquil behavior was driving her bonkers. After downing a couple of drinks, and ignoring John’s critical gaze, she finally felt her muscles loosen up. The alcohol flowed through her veins, making her body feel numb and weightless. The gentle hum of the plane’s engines and quiet murmurs from other passengers made a surprisingly soothing lullaby. Leaning her head back, Rose slowly drifted off into a sound sleep.

Reaching a stopping point in the book he had been reading, John was ready to break their silence. It was evident from the dark circles under her eyes that Rose had gotten little sleep. He hadn’t slept that much himself, but he was used to that. They had never spoken outside of work, unless it was about work. Yesterday had brought out brand new sides of both of them. He remembered her breath on his ear and shivered. Stop. She had played him, and very well he might add. Her actions during his ‘proposal’ were exceedingly convincing. He fidgeted, growing frustrated as he remembered how useless his brain had become when she had come into extreme proximity. Stop, stop, stop. That kind of thinking would get him nowhere. This was an engagement of necessity, not desire. 

Something warm came to rest on his shoulder. Trying to turn his head only accomplished a slight tickling of his nose from the culprit’s blonde hair. Rose. She was sleeping on his shoulder. He gulped and tried to shift, not sure what he wanted to achieve. At his slight movement, Rose only snuggled closer into him. Her whole upper body pressed against his arm. His body buzzed with awareness. Not good. This was a dozen suitcases full of not good. Closing his eyes he tried to regulate his breathing. In a normal situation he would have woken the offending person up. And that’s what he really should be doing now. That would be the professional thing to do. Right now, his body wasn’t interested in being professional. Quickly squashing that train of thought, he looked at the situation logically. Rose was short on sleep and they were going to be spending the next few days trying to convince her family that they were in love. It wouldn’t do to have her making slip ups. Reason won out, she needed to sleep. Even if that meant he had to sacrifice his shoulder as a pillow. Returning to his reading, he repeated three words over and over in his head. Necessity, not desire.

Rose woke as she usually did. Slowly. She heard the announcement of their upcoming arrival, and was not looking forward to rushing through the terminal to make their connecting flight. Eyes still closed, she nuzzled the warm surface beneath her right cheek. Warm? Right cheek? But the window was to her left. Oh. She recoiled from John’s side, cheeks flushing a bright pink. Oh God, she hoped she hadn’t drooled on him. Mumbling her apologies, she busied herself by digging through her hand bag.

John didn’t say a word. Let her take that however she wanted to. Her reaction to discovering her sleeping place told him she was thoroughly embarrassed. For once, he didn’t want to make it worse.

Almost an hour later, they were seated in much the same way on their connecting flight. They still hadn’t spoken. Rose wondered why he hadn’t pushed her off him the minute her head touched his shoulder. She was getting nervous again. Not all of it had to do with facing her family. Most of the flight was spent an awkward silence. Neither of them even moved. At some point John yanked a magazine out of the seat pocket in front of him. He flipped through pages, only briefly scanning each one. Rose sighed and pulled out a blue folder from her carry on.

Opening the folder on her lap, she looked over the questions again. This wasn’t going to work if she was the only one who knew the answers. They still had awhile before landing, and now was as good as a time as any. “The good news is, I know everything about you.”

John’s head snapped up. “What? What is that? And what are you talking about?”

“These,” she shook the folder in his face, “are all the questions that Mr. Saxon is going to ask us in our interrogation, er, interview Monday. There’s loads of ‘em. And you only have four days to learn all of this about me, that’s the bad news. So…”

John shoved the magazine back into the seat pocket in front of him. Snatching the folder from Rose’s hands he began flipping through pages much the same way he had with the magazine. Once he reached the end, he opened it back up at the beginning, reading slower, brow furrowed in concentration. “You really know all these answers? About me?”

Rose didn’t miss the challenge in his voice. “Scary isn’t it?”

“Mmm, just a bit. Ha! Here we go. What am I allergic to?” A smug grin played at the corners of his mouth.

“Pears.” Rose didn’t miss a beat. He was wasting time, playing games like this. “Oh, and a whole spectrum of human emotion.”

John snorted, and Rose didn’t need to see his face to know that he had arched an eyebrow at her in incredulity. “Oh, yes. Ha, ha, ha. You’re a bit cheeky, you are.” Rose turned to smile at him, feigning innocence. He shook his head and reexamined the paper. “Oh! Here’s a really good one.” He brought his eyes back to her face, grinning madly. There was no way she would get this one. “Do I have any scars?”

“Yup.” She replied popping the ‘p’. “Above your right hip bone. You had to have your appendix removed New Year’s Eve two years ago. Made me miss my party, spent the night with you in the hospital instead.”

He could feel his ears burning. How could he have forgotten that? 

“And I’m pretty sure you have a tattoo.” She watched him closely for his reaction.

“You’re pretty sure?” He carefully kept his expression neutral.

“Pretty sure.” Of course, he wasn’t going to make this easy. So she plunged ahead. “Also two years ago, but before you had your appendix taken out, your dermatologist called. Something about a, oh what was it?” John was eyeing her skeptically. “Oh oh! A q-switch laser. I googled it later while you were in a meeting. Turns out that they are used in-“

“Tattoo removal.” He finished for her, looking back to the folder. He scanned for another question, wanting to change the subject.

“You cancelled your appointment. So what is it? Hmm? Skull? Old girlfriend’s name? Barbed wire?” She was blatantly teasing him, pushing as far as she dared.

John’s eyes flashed dangerously, before he fixed her with an amused stare. “You know, this is truly exciting for me to experience you like this.” His smile was all teeth, and he hoped she would be flustered enough to change the topic. He was not divulging this information, least of all to her.

Rose giggled. “You’re gonna have to tell me ya know? Including...” she let her eyes travel as much of his body as possible in the slightly confined space.

John narrowed his eyes suspiciously, “No. I most certainly will not have to tell you.”

“He’s going to ask. Which means, I’ll also have to know the location.” She gave him another tongue touched smile, making him gulp painfully.

“No.” He shook his head to clear it. “We are done with that question. End of discussion. Moving on.” He glanced quickly at the page. “I like this one. Who’s place do we stay at? That’s easy. Mine.”

Rose’s expression was no longer amused, crossing her arms across her chest. “And why wouldn’t we stay at mine?”

He chuckled. “Because I have a spacious, expensive flat in beautiful downtown London. You probably have a tiny little thing located on some, some run down estate.” 

His jab hit her like a slap in the face. He met her gaze to find her glaring daggers at him. She opened her mouth to tell him just how far up his arse he could shove that folder, but was interrupted by the soft ding of the intercom.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please fasten your seat belts. We are now beginning our descent into Juneau. Thank you.” The woman’s voice was soft and pleasant.

Rose began to fasten her seat belt, noticing John staring at her out of the corner of her eye. “Yes?”

“Juneau? I thought you said your family lived in Sitka?” He clicked his seat belt together, eyes still fixed on Rose.

“They do live in Sitka.” 

John could sense she was holding back some vital piece of information. He hadn’t really bothered to look at the tickets himself, he had let Rose handle all the details, as usual. “Well…how are we getting to Sitka?”

Rose chuckled at his expectant expression. No way was she going to tell him. He hadn’t bothered to look at the trip info, so really he had it coming. It would be much better to see his face as it happened. “You’ll see.”

Forty-five minutes later they were on board another airplane. A much smaller airplane. The kind where you felt every bit of bump of turbulence. It was cramped and it was noisy. Once John had realized what kind of dingy plane they were going to be on, his face had settled into a clearly disgruntled expression. He bit the inside of his cheek and rolled his eyes every few seconds. Making a show of exhaling loudly whenever he knew Rose was watching. 

It took every ounce of self-control to keep from laughing in his disgustingly contorted face. It didn’t help that the flight attendant knocked his elbow with the cart every time she passed. He was seated in a clearly uncomfortable position, folded in on himself, trying to fit his long lean frame into the hilariously small space. She was pressed to the window as much as possible, giving him more room. Even so, his elbow bumped hers with every pass the attendant made, and his knee rubbed her thigh with every bounce the plane took in the air. He flinched each time they touched. At first she took offense, thinking he found her truly repulsive. Then she remembered his aversion to any sort of physical contact and how awkward he had been the few times they had touched the day before. He still had yet to bring up her cat nap on his shoulder. He wasn’t disgusted she realized, he was just that uncomfortable. She fought the fit of giggles that threatened to burst from her lips. John glanced over at her briefly. Rose had to bury her face in one of the on flight magazines to prevent him from seeing just how much she was enjoying this. 

The plane landed on the tiny air strip with a screech and a jerk. John gripped the arm rests with white knuckles. He wasn’t afraid to fly. But this, this was most certainly not flying. This was recklessness and hope attached to a couple of shoddy propellers. 

Rose looked out the window and spotted her dad and gran waiting for them, holding up welcome home signs and grinning like a couple of loons. She was immediately sobered up from the hilarity of the earlier situation. Her stomach flipped and her legs felt shaky even though she was still seated. She wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans, turning towards John. “John.”

He barely heard her whisper his name over the din of the plane taxiing down the runway. “Hmm?”

“Look at me.”

Obediently he turned to face her. She was nervous about something, and he hoped she wasn’t about to go back on their deal.

Rose took in a couple of deep breaths before speaking. “Remember, we will tell my family how I choose and when I choose. Got it?” He nodded his agreement. “Right. And don’t forget. We’re…that is…blimey, this is so awkward. No helping it now. We’re engaged, we have to act like it. If not my mum will know straight away.”

The plane lurched to a stop. Something was being said over the intercom, but John wasn’t listening. Not to that anyway. Rose’s nerves were due to her worrying that her family would find out the whole thing was a sham. He had to reassure her that he was more than capable of holding his own. It was cramped, and not the ideal setting, but it would have to do. Her words about a ring echoed through his mind.

“Give me your hand.” John’s voice was tender, and Rose couldn’t help but observe him cautiously as she slid her hand into his upturned palm. He shook his head, then looked at her, eyes heated and full of something she couldn’t read. “Your other hand.”

Oh. He remembered. Slowly she put her left hand into his, twisting in her seat, unintentionally bringing her upper body closer to him. He shut his eyes for a moment, collecting himself. Opening them slowly he reached in to his jacket pocket and pulled out a tiny object. Rose didn’t have a chance to look at it before he was sliding it into place, claiming her as his, even if it was just for show. He clasped her hand between his, obstructing her view of the jewelry.  
Her breath caught and her eyes flew to his as he reached up with his now free hand to brush a lock of stray hair away from her face, trailing his thumb down her cheek. “I know how to play the doting boyfriend.” His breath was hot on her face, his hand resting gently on her neck, thumb brushing slowly just behind her ear. Her mind rushed to remind her that this too was just for show. 

He looked past her, out the window to the small group of people gathered behind the short chain link fence. His gaze drifted to their joined hands, a pained look marring his handsome features. “It was my mother’s.” He heard Rose’s sharp intake of breath and quickly changed the subject, still not meeting her eyes. “Don’t worry about your bags, I’ll get them.” Unbuckling his seat belt as fast as his fingers would allow, he jumped out of the seat without waiting for her to answer.

Rose blinked furiously, trying to regain her composure. He was right about one thing. He knew how to play his part, a little too well she thought. She threw her head back against the seat in frustration. It had been too long since she had properly been with someone that way. Sure there had been a few odd flings here and there, but none of them had really been serious boyfriend material. Sighing, she undid her seat belt and remembered the ring as it scratched against her other hand. 

She held her hand in front of her face, letting the light play on the glittering band. It was breathtaking. A simple princess cut diamond sat nestled between to smaller sapphires, each a deep shimmering blue. The band was white gold, etched all around with delicate swirls. Rose was fairly certain it was worth more than her entire flat. She wondered at the fact that it fit her finger perfectly, and couldn’t believe John would ever her trust her with the one thing that held a huge sentimental value to him. He was probably waiting for her. Shit, he didn’t even know what her family looked like. With a start she realized she was one of three people left on the plane. Grabbing her small carry on, she scampered out of her seat and toward the door.

Rose walked down the steps of the plane, waving madly at her father and gran on the other side of the fence. She glanced briefly at John, who was in fact waiting for her with all their bags, and then broke out in to a run. Launching herself at into her father’s arms, she giggled as he lifted her off the ground.

“Hello sweet heart.” Her father slowly lowered her down, only to have Rose squeeze him tighter.

“Oi! It’s my birthday weekend, don’t I get some love?” Rose’s gran sounded brash, but her wide grin gave away her teasing nature. Rose somewhat reluctantly released her father, turning to the elderly woman.

“Come here, Gran.” Rose gathered her grandmother into an equally fierce embrace. She pulled back, a slight frown creasing her brow. “Where’s mum?”

“Oh, you know Jacks.” Her father’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Busy planning Gran’s party. Got to make sure it’s all perfect.”

“Never mind that! Once you reach my age dear, they all blend together. Now…where’s this bloke of yours?” Rose inwardly groaned, her gran’s eyes were sparkling with mischief.

“Umm…he should be…” Rose turned around to see where John had gone to. It was a small airport, there was no way he could have gotten lost. “Oh! There he is!” 

John had barely registered that Rose had finally gotten off the plane, before she dashed off. Thankful for his height and the fact that there wasn’t anywhere she could really hide in this tiny, quite frankly pathetic, excuse of an airport, he gathered up their luggage, five pieces in all, and followed her bobbing blonde head. Carefully maneuvering through the small gap in the fence, he caught sight of Rose pointing in his direction. Wishing his hands were free so he could tug on his ear, he closed the distance, brilliant smile firmly in place. This was a business deal, just like any other, he could get through this.

“John, this is my father, Pete.” Rose indicated the man standing to her left. Pete was dressed in a casual grey suit. His strawberry blond hair was starting to bald at his forehead. His eyes were sharp and intelligent, but John detected a friendliness there as well. 

John reached forward and griped Pete’s hand in a firm hand shake. “Hello, sir.”

“Please, call me Pete.” Rose’s dad replied gently.

Rose giggled. “And this, this is my gran, Donna.” She indicated the older lady standing to her other side. Donna’s hair was mostly white, but he noticed hints of red. She must have been a ginger back her youth. John was mildly jealous, he always wished his hair was ginger. 

John put his hand forward to greet her in the same manner. Donna batted his hands away. “Oi, I’ll be having none of that proper, stuffy business type nonsense.” Without warning, Donna pulled John into a hug. His eyes widened in alarm, pleading silently with Rose over Donna’s shoulder. Rose only shook her head, suppressing another giggle. John awkwardly patted Donna’s back until she released him. Holding him at arm length, she looked him up and down. “Rose…he’s a skinny piece of nothing! It’s like hugging air! What do you hold on to when-“

“Gran!” Rose hissed, cheeks turning pink. John shifted uncomfortably on his feet, looking anywhere but at Rose.

“Oh alright. Relax missy. It was just a question.” She winked at John, abruptly turning serious. “Now, do you prefer John? Or unforgivable prat?”

“Excuse me?” John spluttered in bewilderment. He looked at Rose, who was now turning a deeper shade of red.

“Well we’ve heard both. And then some.” Donna regarded him coolly. 

John’s mouth hung open, not sure how to respond. This had started off relatively well too. All things considering. He was fairly certain that Rose had been the one to call him that, probably due to making her work yet another weekend, among a laundry list of other things.

“She’s kidding. Aren’t you?” Pete eyed Donna carefully, willing her to shut up.

“Of course! Of course!” Donna cackled. “Now let’s get you two love birds back to the house.” John shot Rose a heated, we’ll-talk-later look before she was swept up by her family. Grunting with frustration and exertion, he collected their things and followed them down the pathway.

They loaded their things into Pete’s jeep and then Rose and John climbed into the backseat. The road was winding and surrounded by pine trees on both sides. They began driving through the small town, both looking out their own windows, lost in thought. 

This town was way too small for John’s liking. He had gotten used to the hustle and bustle of the city and couldn’t understand why someone would want to live in a place this dull. He watched building after building pass by, noticing they all had ‘Tyler’ in their name. A memory nagged at the back of his head. Running his hand through his hair he tried to will the memory back into existence. He turned to ask Rose, the pink tag on her black handbag catching his eye instead. It read ‘R. Tyler’. Wait…he swiveled his head from the window and back to her several times. This was impossible. 

Rose was studiously ignoring John’s frantic movements beside her, letting the familiar sites wash over her. She was going to have to have a word with her grandmother about ‘appropriate conversation’ if she was going to survive this weekend. 

“Rose.” John whispered from across the seat.

She continued to ignore him.

“Roooose.” He was more insistent this time. Yet she ignored him again. He reached over and pinched her arm.

“Ow! Don’t do that!” Rose hissed between clenched teeth.

“You forgot to tell me about all the family businesses, dear.” He narrowed his eyes at her. She glared at him in response, not appreciating the sarcastic tone of his endearment.

“She was probably being modest.” Donna piped up from the front seat. “Never did like to use money she didn’t earn herself.” Rose had blushed again, returning to her position of looking out the window. He watched her, his snarky remark about money dying on his lips.

The jeep came to a stop outside a quaint well-kept marina. Pete came around to help Donna out of passenger seat. John was beside Rose in a flash. She gasped as his large brown eyes appeared before her face just as her feet touched the ground.

“What are we doing?” He grabbed her hand, whispering and pulling her to the back of the jeep. “Shouldn’t we be checking in to our hotel?”

“Oh no no.” Pete interrupted, poking his head around the vehicle. “We cancelled your reservation. Family stays with us, Jacks insisted.” Pete grinned at them before returning to Donna.

“Brilliant! Molto bene!” John called over Rose’s shoulder. As soon as he knew Pete was out of ear shot, helping Donna climb down a ladder to something unseen, he refocused on Rose. “What?!” Playing the lovey fiancée was one thing, staying with Rose’s family was another. He was certain she didn’t live in some tiny dump, if all the town businesses were any indication. Even so, if they lived in a mansion, he didn’t need her family in his personal space. 

Rose smiled sweetly and patted his arm. “My mum is probably more stubborn than you are. Best just to give in now, yeah? Oh, and don’t forget to grab my hand bag off the seat. Thanks.” She turned on her heel and waltzed off. 

Muttering swear words under his breath, John managed to unload everything from the jeep and drag it to the top of the ladder where Rose was waiting. He looked over the edge. Pete was assisting Donna from a shaky wooden dock into a beautiful expensive looking boat. He gulped, his knees felt like they were made of jelly. Swallowing his panic, he tried to sound firm, “I am not getting into that boat.”

“You don’t have to. There’s an inn down the street. See you in a few days.” Rose began to climb down the ladder.

“You know I can’t swim. Well, when I say can’t I mean don’t. Haven’t actually tried since I was a kid.”

Rose peered up at him, tongue between her teeth. “Notice the boat? And try not to drop anything coming down.” She climbed the rest of the way down, dropping effortlessly onto the dock.

John sucked in a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for the climb down. The descent wasn’t the issue. It was the rickety piece of wood that served as a platform after he reached the bottom. He wasn’t even going to think about the boat ride yet. Loaded down with bags, he turned and placed one foot on the first rung. Eyes shut tight, he descended the ladder with painstakingly slow progress. He was vaguely aware of Rose tapping her foot beneath him.

“Should we have helped him with the bags, Rose?” Pete’s voice was touched with concern as he watched John wobble on the ladder.

“What? No, he’s fine. Wouldn’t have let me even I had offered. Chivalry and all.” Rose flapped her hands vaguely in the air, trying not to sound too amused.

“That poor boy is gonna snap like a twig.” Donna mumbled.

“Come on, it’s not that far.” Rose called to John, who was barely halfway down the ladder. He had been a right arse on the plane. This was the first opportunity she had to return the favor. She was well aware of the fact that he didn’t swim. She also knew that there was no way he would fall into the water and drown with Pete around. So she felt well justified in her teasing. 

Looking up, she was treated to a nice view of his bum. Not bad she found herself thinking. Might as well take advantage of his current predicament. “Looking good boss.” John paused momentarily at her teasing tone. He came just close enough for Rose to reach out and touch him. “Just going to give you a hand here.”

John froze completely as he felt Rose plant her hand firmly on his bum. He blinked several times, trying to clear the haze that had suddenly impaired his vision. Gritting his teeth, he hissed down to her, “Hand. Off. Arse. Now.” She gave him a quick squeeze before obeying. In the boat, Pete and Donna exchanged amused glances, stifling snickers behind their hands.

Rose wanted to double over with laughter. He made quite the sight, suit cases and various bags hanging off his tall frame every which way, and she was certain she could see his toes gripping the ladder rungs through his trainers. The fact that she had managed to grab his bum, poetic justice in her mind, made it all the more laughable. However, laughing out loud would probably do nothing to move his progress along. 

“Here, let me help.” Rose made sure to drop all the teasing out of her voice as she reached up to grab her hand bag. John peeked at her between his arm and chest with wary eyes. “That does mean you’ll have to let go, so I can pull it off your arm, yeah?”

John didn’t move.

“Come on. You’re right there. Even if, and I’m saying if, if you did fall…it wouldn’t be into the water. The dock is literally right below you.” She tried to make her voice sound more reassuring, and a lot less irritated than she was feeling. How hard was it to climb down a bloody ladder?

John took a deep breath, readjusted his grip with his hands, then stuck one of his feet out blindly behind him. He waved the foot around, getting more frantic with each pass as he was disturbingly only coming into contact with air.

“Umm…John? You have to put your foot down as well. The dock isn’t going to rise up to meet you.”

He paused for a second before lowering his whole body slowly until he touched wood. As soon as his foot was firmly planted on the solid, if slightly uneven dock, he pushed back from the ladder. Arms flailing slightly, he regained his balance and a second later, his composure. “Ha!” he grinned, scuffling around to look at Rose. “Not so bad really. Honestly I don’t know what all the fuss was about. Made it, safe and sound.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Right. Well congratulations, I am now one hundred years old.”

“Oi! I didn’t-“

“You did.” John tried to speak again, but Rose was quick to cut him off. “I don’t know what you were trying to say, but whatever it was…you did do it. Now can we please get in the boat? My gran could die any moment now, the rate you’re moving.” She arched an eyebrow at him.

John was about to tell her off when he noticed Pete and Donna watching them from the boat. Right, yes, doting boyfriend. Smiling sweetly, he walked to the boat. With Pete’s help, they got the luggage off the dock and into the water craft, Donna yelling direction that they didn’t really need the entire time. John had stopped to wipe his hands on his trousers, giving himself a moment to mentally prepare crossing the gap between the boat and the dock. 

Donna’s brash voice pierced through the calm he was trying to create. “Well then, Mister-still-believes-in-chivalry, you gonna help my Rose into the boat or just stand there looking pretty?”

John choked, looking at Donna very much like a deer caught in the headlights. Quickly he masked his initial shock into a soft grin. His face was going to break from the ridiculous amount of fake smiling going on this weekend. Rose sidled up beside him. 

“Gran, I am more than capable of getting into the boat on my own. It’s not the first time I’ve done it.” And probably wouldn’t be the last, Rose thought to herself. John surprised her by speaking before she could take another step forward.

“Nonsense, dear. Allow me.” John placed a hand on her elbow, avoiding her waist so as not to receive another slap later on. He winced at the memory. There was an interesting discussion that still needed to happen. He tried to recall why they hadn’t talked about it on the plane. Probably something to do with limited places to run if she felt the need to slap him again. He noticed Rose was staring at him. Oh. Right. He was supposed to be helping her into the boat. Clearing his throat, he grasped her hand with his still free one. Leaning the minimal amount, he guided her from one bobbing surface to another, the hand at her elbow trailing down her arm until there was no more of her to touch. She had gripped his hand tighter while gaining her balance inside the boat, a small part of him thrilling at the feel of her hand in his.

This was ridiculous. This was a business deal, nothing more. He told himself that he needed to get a grip and stop letting her get under his skin. Lost in his own thoughts, he had absentmindedly kept ahold of her hand longer than need be. Mistaking this as part of his fear of the water, Rose held tighter and returned the favor, only dropping his hand once he had both feet firmly in the vessel. He should have let go sooner, and gotten in himself. He didn’t.

The scenic boat ride allowed John to collect his thoughts and get back into the right frame of mind before facing Rose’s mother. So lost in his own world was he, that he didn’t notice Rose doing the same. The ladder incident really had been in jest, and still well-deserved pay back. The fact that she had enjoyed it for more than that reason, hadn’t sunk in until she had found her hand in his. She had fought the impulse to hold his hand tighter, only giving in when she had a legitimate reason to do so. Her stomach had flipped when he kept his grip as he crossed over into the boat himself. Sitting in the back corner of the boat, she avoiding looking at him, letting the cold wind whip her hair back and hoping the sting of the chill would bring her back to reality. It wouldn’t do for her to suddenly become attached to him. This wasn’t what she really wanted in the first place, it was just a means to an end. Maybe she could convince him to let her see someone on the side. The way her body was beginning to react to his innocent touches told her that it really had been too long.

Rounding a bend, the Tyler house came into view. “Here we are. That’s our house right there.” Pete Tyler pointed to a house nestled amongst dark green pines.

John blanched. House? That wasn’t a house, that was a bloody mansion. It was impossible to tell just how big the home was through the trees. There were at least three stories, a possible bottom fourth one with the way it was angled on the hill. Despite the size of the house, it reminded him of many cottages he had viewed from the road while traveling through the countryside. It was colored in greys and muted green siding. John counted at least four chimneys and wondered just how far behind the house the wrap around porch went. Windows placed for optimum lighting glittered like diamonds in the afternoon sun. Several smaller buildings sat nearby. John could only assume from the similar style and colors that they were part of the Tyler property. 

John was what he considered to be finically well off. At least he had thought that. The flat he had rubbed in Rose’s face earlier now paled in comparison. At the time, she hadn’t said a word. He couldn’t remember if he had even really given her an opportunity to say anything. Probably not, knowing his gob. That wasn’t the point. In the years she had worked for him, she hadn’t so much as hinted at the wealth her family possessed. He was coming to the conclusion that he really knew hardly anything about her. He straightened his tie in irritation. Instead of placing the irritation and fault on himself, he twisted in his seat to lash out at Rose who was seated behind him, an unknown expression on her face.

“That is your home?” he hissed at her.

Honey eyes snapped to his face, her gentle smile at odds with the anger swirling in her eyes. “Is there a problem?”

“Why did you tell me you were poor?” It was a lie and he knew it. 

“I never said I was poor. You just assumed.” She crossed her arms, letting her subtle jab sink in.

“Well you never told me you were rich either.” John shot back.

“I’m not rich. My parents are.” She looked away, deflecting his unspoken question.

“That’s something only rich people say.” He snapped at her, his irritation rising to new levels. God, she was infuriating. He caught Donna watching them before another rude comment passed his lips. Forcefully smiling at both of them, he turned back around to see Pete bringing the boat to yet another dock. This one looked to be in much better condition.

Neither of them moved a muscle until Pete had assisted Donna on to the dock. Rose drifted toward the front of the boat. John’s hand shot out, grabbing her wrist and giving her pause before she had passed him by. He had crossed a line. Any other time he wouldn’t have cared. However, they had to make this work. This weekend would be the hardest. Once they got back to London it would be easy, she could even keep her flat for all he cared. He was trying to ignore the fact that a portion of him did truly feel bad. Apologies were not his strong suit, and he didn’t give them out often.

“Rose.” Slowly she looked down at him. John rubbed the back of his neck with other hand before speaking. “I, that is, what I’m trying to say…oh for heaven’s sake. I’m sorry. Ok? Really I am. I think it’s brilliant that you’ve made your own way. Even if it would make more sense to put your parent’s money to good use.” Too late, he realized he had gotten carried away and crossed the line he was trying desperately to get away from. Rose’s whole body tensed and her eyes blazed. He braced himself for another slap that was sure to be coming.

“If I want your praise I will ask for it.” Her detached tone and intentional use of words he had spoken to her the previous day hit him just as hard as her slap surely would have. He knew his face looked as if she had just kicked his puppy, but he couldn’t get it under control. “Don’t worry about our bags. Someone will get them. Now. Let. Me. Go.”

John snatched his hand back, as if her wrist were on fire. Rose hopped out of the boat with natural grace, obviously having done it several times before. This time she didn’t offer him any assistance. She marched down the dock, knowing he had no choice but to figure it out on his own. Ruffling his hair from agitation, he stood from his seat. Well, he had cocked that one up. 

Sighing, he cautiously approached the edge of the boat. It bumped gently against the dock, causing the gap to be in a constant state of flux. At least someone in the Tyler family had had enough sense to put railings on this dock. The break in the railings that Pete had chosen to line up with was a smaller one, just wide enough for two people to squeeze through. Thanking his lucky stars, he gripped a railing on either side of him and began to sway in time with the rocking of the boat. Timing it just right, he lunged forward, feet skidding for purchase on the wood surface. He let go with one hand, his other now acting as an anchor that jerked him back from his otherwise forward momentum. His new trajectory had him spinning around, straight into the rail. He collided with a silent grunt, clinging to the rail for an instant before straightening up and glancing around. No one appeared to have noticed his flailing. Good. One hand still on the rail, he made his way towards land.

He approached Rose just in time to hear someone up on the lawn yell her name. Rose grinned and waved up at the group of people that were gesturing their hands through the air. Pete was helping Donna from the dock into the slightly damp grass, even though she kept insisting she was quite able to manage it herself thank you very much. Rose’s earlier fury at John was instantly replaced by the anxiety that had been plaguing her since leaving London. 

“Umm…Dad? What’s going on?” Rose’s pitch heightened at the end of her question. She felt like she was about to come unglued.

“Well, what’s it look like blondie?” Donna sassed, placing a hand on her hip. On any other elderly woman, the gesture would have seemed out of place. For Donna, it was as if that was where her hands were always meant to be.

Pete placed a hand warningly on Donna’s shoulder and smiled sadly at Rose.   
“Before you say anything else, this was all your mum.” Rose groaned loudly, headed lolling back. “She just wanted a nice surprise for you sweetheart. I tried to tell her you didn’t want fifty people waiting to greet you. But well, you know Jacks.”

“Fifty??” Rose was trying, and mostly failing, to keep the whine from her voice.

“And they are all excited to see you! Oh, and meet your mysterious skinny bloke over there.” Donna dismissively indicated John. He frowned at the constant references she made to his weight. It wasn’t his fault he was thin. Besides, he did have a name.

“Come on, Rose. The sooner you get it over with, the sooner all these people will go home.” Pete gave Rose another small smile before leading Donna to the house. Rose stared into the distance, her gran’s voice, complaining that just because she was getting older didn’t mean she suddenly forgot how to walk, barely registering. She closed her eyes, trying to even out her breathing. John took a step closer, towering over her.

“A party?!” He hissed in her ear.

“Apparently.” Her tone was lifeless. “Let’s just get it over with yeah?”

“Yeah.” His agreement was colored with sarcasm.

Rose had just about had it. This was her family that they were conning. And now all of her friends too. She hadn’t told John, but this had been her family’s vacation home for a very very long time. She knew practically everyone in the tiny town. And no doubt, her mum had probably convinced some of her friends from London to fly out for the occasion. A free ticket was all it would take. Squaring her shoulders, she looked up at John, still hovering above her. 

“Right then. And could you try moving a bit faster? My gran is faster than you. March, mister.” She pushed him, just hard enough to make him stumble off the edge of the dock and onto the grass. His limbs flung out in all directions, she thought for sure he would fall on his arse. No such luck. He regained his balance, pulled on the bottoms of his suit jacket, and narrowed his eyes at her. The result was a soft chuckle from Rose as she led him up to the house.


	4. Awkward Moments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up being a little long, but I didn't want to cut it off sooner.
> 
> Once again, huge thanks to bittie752! Especially when parts of this chapter made me want to scream. :)

Entering the main room, John hardly noticed all the people milling about. Nibbles. All the tables in the room were covered with various nibbles. Servers carried even more, gliding around people and furniture. John’s mouth watered. He went to move away from Rose, pulled forward by the scent of all the food. Rose silently followed him, anxiously surveying all the people. Fifty might have been a gross under estimate on her father’s part. 

John began popping various snacks into his mouth. Moaning appreciatively at the tastes, after all airplane food was rubbish, he earned a bemused look from Rose. 

“Do I need to leave you two alone?” Rose knew his affinity for food, especially little snacks served at parties. The noises coming from his throat though, those were new. And quite distracting.

John’s response was to stuff more food in his mouth, making the same noises. After he had tasted everything in his immediate range, he observed the room, taking in his surroundings.

The grand appearance of the outside of the house didn’t do the inside any justice. Soft wood paneling came halfway up the walls, giving way to textured heather grey paint. Large wood beams hugged the walls at regular intervals, arching gracefully along the ceiling. The furniture and decorations were outdoorsy yet somehow still posh. Expensive and beautifully crafted paintings hung on a few of the walls. John was unfamiliar with the artists, but was sure they were originals. All in all he was thoroughly impressed with the place.  
Food forgotten for the moment, he remembered their earlier spat on the boat. While it was true that he had, albeit incorrectly, assumed she was poor and even though he had apologized for his rude comments, he didn’t understand why she had never said a word about her parent’s wealth.

“Rose. Why didn’t you ever tell me that your family is sort of like Alaskan Royalty? You’re not ashamed are you?” He thought he had kept his tone neutral, he was genuinely curious. The flash in Rose’s eyes when she looked at him told him he hadn’t done as well as he thought. 

She stalked off, wanting to get away from prying eyes, she could feel the irritation starting to build. John followed closer on her heels.

“How could I? Hmm? For the past three years, we’ve done nothing but talk about you.” Her tone was sarcastic, but he could detect the underlying hurt there as well. They turned down a mostly empty hallway, Rose continuing to lead.

He fought back the urge to snap back at her, instead grabbing her arms and spinning her around to face him. He pushed her backwards into a nearby alcove. Her eyes widened in alarm and she opened her mouth to shout. He silenced her with a hand over her lips, pinning her against the wall. Her eyes flicked back and forth between his own, her whole body rigid. John slowly shook his head.

“Relax, I’m not going to hurt you. Ok?” He stared at her until she nodded her agreement. He slowly removed his hand, placing it beside her head on the wall instead. He needed a private word with her, and knew exactly what this would look like to everyone else. “Look. This bickering back and forth has got to stop. People are supposed to think we’re in love. They aren’t going to believe us if we are constantly at each other’s throats. So can we please…just…can we please stop?” 

He looked sincere, but Rose had to be sure. “I told you, I can play the love struck fiancée. That’s easy.” She batted her eyelashes at him for good measure. “But for you…that is going to require that you stop snacking on children while they dream.” She waited for his response, idly wondering how much longer this conversation was going to last as she realized just how close he was.

He leaned his head back, laughing quietly. When he brought his dark eyes back to her face, she saw genuine delight. “That was actually quite funny. Haven’t heard that one before. I trust you believe me when I say that I’ve heard the lot. I think the children will be safe for now, I had enough nibbles to curb my appetite.” He stepped back from her, gaze becoming more serious. “Now, when are you going to tell your family about the engagement?”

She pushed away from the wall, speaking firmly, “I will tell them when I think it’s the right moment.”

“Rose!” an unfamiliar voice called. 

John’s response was cut off by a red haired woman standing some ways behind him. Rose smiled gently at him before sliding past him towards the other woman. Rolling his eyes, John turned to follow.

“Amy! Hi! How are you?” Rose cooed, embracing her in a friendly greeting. Rose then introduced John to Amy and the man with his arm back around Amy’s waist, Rory. Amy had long, fiery red hair and green eyes that sparkled with the same intensity. She was model pretty, John thought. But that didn’t say much in his book. Rory had light brown shaggy hair and an ordinary, yet honest, face. In the looks department they were opposites. But something under the surface just seemed to click between the two. Somehow it all fit.

“So Rose, I haven’t had a chance to ask you before. What exactly does a book editor do?” Amy asked, leaning her head on Rory’s shoulder.

“That is a great question Amy.” The new voice belonged to a blonde woman who appeared to be in her early forties. She approached the small group and placed her hands on her hips, fixing Rose with a haughty stare. “I’d like to know myself.”

Rose sighed then forced herself to smile. “Hello Mum.”

John looked quickly between the two, noticing the tension that radiated between them. If he looked closely, really really closely mind you, he could see the family resemblance. Rose’s mother was all harsh features and frowns, closed off and judgmental. Whereas Rose was soft smiles, open and accepting. Her mother’s sharp voice cut through his thoughts, before he could figure out where his brain was going with that train of thought.

“Hmph. This must be Johnny.” Her mother scoffed by way of returning the greeting. Rose bit her lip while her mum eyed John up and down. 

There was no way he was going to let her mum, or anyone, ever, call him that. Sensing the extreme discomfort radiating off Rose, he chose to speak up for himself. “Actually, it’s John.” He gave her one of his dazzling smiles to make up for the ice in his tone.

She squinted at him, sizing him up, before reaching out her hand. “Jackie. Pleasure to meet you.” The last part sounded like it was really more for appearances sake. Her body language said that she wasn’t pleased to meet him at all. He remembered Rose’s phone conversation with her mother yesterday in the office. He hadn’t heard the full conversation, but he got the general gist of it from Rose’s reaction to his interruption. No wonder Jackie didn’t seem that delighted. He wondered what other things Rose had told her mother about him. That thought made him more uneasy than it should. Well, there was nothing to be done about it now. 

John took her hand, shaking it, and mimicking her fake joy, “Pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Tyler.” Rose watched the interaction warily. 

Jackie continued to scowl at him. “So why don’t you fill us in on what a real book editor does then? Besides rubbin’ elbows with all them fancy writers and gettin’ piss drunk?” Her tone was clearly condescending. Rose looked at the floor, chewing her tongue, irritation coursing through her body.

Amy and Rory laughed. John laughed along with them, no real emotion behind the sound. What kind of editor did she think he was? He had never gotten ‘piss drunk’ as she put it. It was probably a low jab just to get him riled up. It was working. He was using all his control to keep calm, smile firmly fixed in it’s place.

“That sounds like fun! No wonder you love it so much, Rose!” Amy’s smile was genuine. She either didn’t notice the effect Jackie’s attitude was having on Rose, or she was trying to diffuse it.

Jackie tutted. “Oh no, dear. Rose isn’t an editor.” John stiffened as she grinned innocently at Amy. “Johnny here, he’s the editor. Rose is just his assistant.” Rose looked at Jackie, stunned disbelief on her face. It was no secret that Rose was an editor’s assistant, and she wasn’t ashamed of it. But the tone her mother had used implied that she should be. Her chest constricted, still not sure why her mum couldn’t just be happy for her.

“John.” He corrected her, not trying to hide the fact that his smile was fake from Jackie any longer.

“Wait.” Rory spoke up, nervously. “So that means that he, he’s your boss?” He pointed to John, slight frown creasing his brow.

“Yeah, yeah he is.” Jackie answered for them. “Isn’t that something?” She scoffed. The air around the small group became suffocating. Amy and Rory shuffled nervously, before quietly excusing themselves. Dejection was written all over Rose’s face. John was beginning to feel the familiar rush of anger coursing through his veins. Jackie watched Amy and Rory leave before turning to Rose, getting in one last quip. “Well, I think I’m gonna find the wine.” With a searing look for John, she marched off.

John ground his teeth together. With burning eyes he faced Rose. “Charming,” he sneered. At the sad smile she gave him he instantly wished he could take it back. His anger wasn’t with her, and he hadn’t meant to lash out that way. Just as he reached out for her, she walked off, leaving him grabbing at the air.

Rose couldn’t believe her mum had talked like that in front of other people. She had expected attitude from her at some point, she just assumed it would be in private. At first she had simply felt crestfallen, still not good enough. Honestly part of her was embarrassed. She really hadn’t wanted John’s first impression of her mother to be like that. Although why she suddenly cared what he thought about her mum, she wasn’t sure. Following Jackie down a hallway, bitter disappointment gave way to heated indignation. 

She grabbed her mum’s arm. “That was one hell of a first impression.” 

Jackie regarded her daughter coolly, despite the bite that had been in her voice. “What did you bloody expect, Rose? For years I’ve had to listen to you whinge about that man. I thought you hated him. And now the pair of you show up, and he’s your boyfriend? I-“

“Mum! We just got here. Can we settle in before we have a row in front of all these people?” Rose’s voice was strained, but insistent.

Jackie glanced around then lowered her voice, “I just never figured my daughter would be one to sleep her way to the middle.”

Rose felt as if she had been slapped. She was disoriented for a fraction of a second before retaliating, “I’ll have you know, that man in there is one of the most respected editors in the entire-“

“He’s your meal ticket,” Jackie bit out. “And I think you brought him here just to satisfy me. Honestly, Rose-“

“He’s not my meal ticket, mum.” Rose’s voice was just as hard. She loved her mum, but right now she was hurt and infuriated. “He’s my fiancée.” 

Jackie’s face fell. “What did you say?”

“You heard me. We’re getting married.” Rose held up her hand, flashing the brilliant ring in her mother’s face, before brushing past her.

Jackie was rooted to the spot, face frozen in shock. She really needed that glass of wine.

John’s first instinct was to go after her. He had hurt her, again. It seemed to be an unwanted gift of his. Taking a few steps, he saw that Rose was following Jackie. That particular confrontation was something he didn’t need, or want, to be a part of. Changing direction, he went to go pretend to mingle while really searching for the perfect nibble.

A man in a white button up server shirt, complete with black bowtie, stepped out of a hallway, flashing his silver tray in front of John. “Care for some snacks?” 

John’s eyes lit up as he surveyed the tray. Just as quickly, he took a step back, violently shaking his head. Pears. “Thank you, but no thank you.”

“I insist.” The man had a very smooth voice, with a distinct American accent. 

“Really, no thank you.” John was now waving his hands about, trying to get the man to understand that he was not going to eat the particular treat on his tray.

“I find that, if you just…taste it.” The American cocked an eyebrow and picked up one of the edibles. Did he just make that sentence an innuendo? John appraised the man before him. He was slightly shorter with dark, almost black hair with a bit fringe hanging down on his forehead. His piercing blue eyes stood out on his rugged, and what John assumed females would determine handsome, face. He had a teasing sparkle in his eyes that told John that he had indeed turned that line into an innuendo. Blimey, this was new. Not that he had anything against the man’s preference. He just didn’t share in it, and had never had anyone be so forward with it, in regards to himself, before.

“It looks lovely, you must give my compliments to the chef. But no.” John tried again. The man’s only response was to move the offending food closer to John’s mouth. At the last minute, John smacked the outstretched hand from below, causing the food to fly into the wall and his fingers to flick the tip of John’s nose. “I’m allergic you git.” John spat, rubbing his nose.

“Well why didn’t you say so?” The other man grinned widely at him, eyes wandering.

John was beginning to feel slightly uncomfortable. He opened his mouth to speak but heard a voice call out over the din of the party.

He recognized Rose’s voice immediately, “Everyone, I have an announcement to make. John and I are getting married!” He heard gasps and hushed whispers in response. The people he could see around him all wore shocked expressions.

John choked, as if he had taken a bite of the pear treat after all. The dark haired bloke gave him a concerned look. “You alright?”

“What? Oh…fine, fine. Brilliant!” John grabbed a flute of champagne from another passing waiter, downing it in one gulp.

“Yup. Darling, where are you?” Rose’s voiced drifted to him from the main room. 

There was no avoiding it now. Handing the empty glass to the man still standing in front of him, eyeballing him up and down, he followed the sound of her voice. He poked his head around the wall of the main room, where he presumed her to be.

“There he is.” Rose was beaming at him as John came fully around the corner. They exchanged a silent conversation, using only their eyes. Him telling her he couldn’t believe that she chose now, and like this. And her reply being, you better believe it, now get your skinny arse over here. He attributed their ability to have this kind of conversation to working together for three years.

“Well, don’t just stand there. Come over here, dear.” She batted her eyelashes and tilted her head to the side.

The whole weight of the situation settled on his shoulders. Swallowing nervously, he walked closer o Rose, aware of every eye in the room watching him. Rose held her arms out, presenting him like he was some sort of prize on a game show. People began clapping and whistling. He forced his grin wider and rubbed his sweaty palms on his trousers. He came to stand uneasily beside Rose, who was beginning to look just as nervous. They mumbled thank you’s to the congratulating crowd, swaying unconsciously closer to one another. 

“More champagne!” Donna’s voice broke the awkward spell as people bustled about to follow her instruction, attention no longer focused on the pair in the middle of the room.

John leaned closer to Rose to hiss in her ear, “That was your idea of the right time? Because that was bloody brilliant. Right after a row with your, mum. Bloody perfect timing.” He stood up straight, snatching another champagne flute from a tray that floated by, again downing in all in one go.

Rose was going to ask how he knew about the row with her mother, but only raised an eyebrow as he swallowed his drink in one swift gulp. He stared back at her, daring her to comment on it.

“Rose!” A male voice from behind her called out.

Turning towards the noise, Rose’s eyes widened and her jaw fell slightly open. Her bewildered expression was quickly replaced by one of pure joy as she stepped toward the man and threw herself into his arms. John watched the exchange, feeling something twist in his stomach. The man was dark skinned with closely shaved dark hair and was grinning with unabashed bliss written all over his face. Definitely not a relative, John thought darkly.

“Oh my god, Mickey.” Rose pulled back, still smiling. “I didn’t know you were gonna be here.”

“Well, you know your mum. Wanted it to be a surprise and all. Surprised, babe?” He winked at her. John had the urge to chuck his now empty glass at the man’s head. Rose giggled as she disentangled herself from Mickey’s arms. Mickey’s eyes fell on him, and he could feel his intense scrutiny. “I think we’re being a bit rude. Not that it really bothers me.”

Rose flushed. “Right, right. Sorry.” She moved back beside John, not meeting his gaze. “John this is…this is my, well, my ex. Mickey.”

“Pleased to meet you, Rickey.” John took hold of the other man’s hand, shaking it a bit more firmly than need be.

“It’s Mickey, mate.” Mickey was smiling, but his eyes had narrowed in a warning. 

John just smiled wider, sliding his arm around Rose’s waist. He felt her stiffen briefly, before relaxing into his touch. He noticed her cheeks flush again from the corner of his eye. He wasn’t sure why he was acting so possessive. They were only engaged for legal purposes. Yet the way Mickey looked at her burned every normal thought process from his mind. He would have to examine that later, when he was alone. For now, it fit into his role as Rose’s betrothed. 

“So, did I miss it then?” Mickey swiftly directed the conversation down a different course.

“Miss what?” Rose’s voice was shaky. 

“The story?” Mickey looked at her like she was missing something completely obvious.

“What are you playin’ at Mickey? What story?”

“Of how he proposed! He was the one to ask you right? Not the other way around?” Mickey raised an eyebrow.

“Of course not! Of course he was the one to propose…”Rose trailed off nervously.

“You can tell a lot about a bloke by the way he proposes? Did ya know that sweetheart?” Jackie’s eyes flashed as she spoke. She was sitting on a nearby tan sofa next to Donna. John wasn’t surprised to have proof that she was the eavesdropping type.

“Oh I love a good story. Out with it then!” Donna practically glowed with excited anticipation. The surrounding guests clamored approval. Mickey chuckled, patted Rose’s arm then took a seat next to a woman John hadn’t been introduced to.

Everyone’s eyes were on Rose. Oh no, no, no. She wasn’t getting roped into this one. This was all his fault to begin with. Twisting slightly in his grip so that she was facing him, his hand now resting on the small of her back, she brought her hand up to rest on his chest. She noticed the way his eyes dilated and how his breath hitched in his throat. Her own suddenly racing pulse and unsteady breathing were the only reasons she didn’t tease him for it. She spoke loud enough for everyone to hear, “John looooves to tell this story. Tells it every chance he gets. Don’t you, dear?” She smiled at him with soft amusement, tongue poking out between her teeth.

His eyes darted to the corner of her mouth and he swallowed audibly, mouth suddenly dry. He needed distance, and he needed it now. “Of course.” He cleared his throat and gingerly removed his hand from her back. She took his empty glass and stepped back the same time he did, smile still in place. Rose perched on the arm of the sofa that held Jackie and Donna, waiting to see what he would come up with.

“Right. Ok. Where to start? Umm…well…” John stammered, looking helplessly around the room, rubbing the back of his neck. People were watching him restlessly as he paced. His eyes landed on Rose, amusement and worry warring for dominance on her face. He tugged at his ear, he was just going to dive all in. No choice really. “Blimey. Well, ok. Rose…Rose and I were about to…” For goodness sake, this was ridiculous. 

He took a deep breath, intending to somehow weave the story in a manner to slightly embarrass Rose in the process. “We were about to celebrate our first anniversary together. And I knew that Rose had been positively itching for me to ask her to marry me. How did I know, you ask? She began dropping subtle little hints. And by little, I mean huge. And by subtle, I mean blatant. Jackie, your daughter is about as subtle as a gun.” At first the audience had awed and cooed. His last remark had everyone doubled over in laughter. Everyone, except Jackie Tyler. Her jaw was clinched, and if Rose was anything like her mother, which he was sure she was, then the clinching of her fists told him that she was resisting the urge to slap him. Good. 

Smirking to his captive listeners, he once again focused on Rose. She wasn’t amused either. Her postured mirrored her mother’s. Idly he thought he should tone it down a bit, lest he receive two slaps this evening. Definitely a good idea. He smiled sweetly at Rose and then continued. “Anyway, I knew she was ready for me to pop the question, but I wanted it to be a surprised. I was afraid she would find this little box, the box that-“

“Oh! The music box!” Rose flounced over to him with a wolfish grin. He should have known better. He was dealing with Rose outside of the office, not the Rose that he was used to working with. At work she always took everything he dished out without any kind of retaliation. This Rose was different. She gave just as good as she got.

“The little music box he customized for me.” Rose continued on. She knew what John had been doing, and two could play that game. “He cut out all these tiny little pictures of himself, and stuck them on the sides. Oh it was adorable. So I opened the box, and out fluttered all these handmade heart and star shaped confetti.” She paused to look at John. Big brown eyes watered with unshed tears. She looked positively love struck. John marveled at her acting ability. Inhaling for dramatic effect, she turned back to their audience. “Once they cleared, I looked down and saw the most beautiful…big…fat-“

“Nothing. No ring.” John shook his head, smirking.

“No ring?” Donna asked, looking from John to Rose.

“Nope. No ring. But inside that box, underneath all that rubbish, was a handwritten note. With the address to a posh hotel, date, and time. Real romantic, but masculine type stuff. Very manly.” John sniffed. “Well, Rose thought-“

“I thought he was cheating on me.” Rose gave him a sad smile, while everyone gasped. “It was a very hard time for me. But I went to the hotel anyway. I pounded on that hotel door…only to find it was already unlocked. I swung the door aside, and found him there-“

“Standing-” John tried to interrupt.

“Kneeling.” Rose gently corrected.

“Like a man.”

“On a bed of rose petals, which was kind of cheesy, but still so sweet. And he was choking back soft soft sobs. And when he finally choked back the tears and caught his breath, he said to me. Rose-“

“Will you marry me. And she said yup. The end. Who’s hungry?” John huffed out in one breath, looking around the room expectantly.

“Well that was quite the story.” Jackie said softly.

“Oh Rose.” Donna whispered. “That sounds so beautiful. Aside from the thinking he was cheating part. No one in their right mind would do such a thing.” She fixed John with a stern stare. “You continue to take good care of my granddaughter, or you’ll have me to answer to.” John nodded frantically, always terrified of the Tyler women slaps. Rose had really done her job with just the one he’d received. He had no desire for a repeat.

“Hand cut confetti, Rose? Really?” Jackie was looking at the two of them now, taking it in. Her daughter was getting married.

“Yes, mum. Really.” Rose moved to stand closer John, wanting to distance herself from her mother. She hated lying to her. Always had. If everything went according to plan, Jackie would never know that this relationship had been fake from the start.

“Give her a kiss!” Mickey’s voice snapped Rose out of her depressing reverie. Of course, it would be Mickey. John had turned white, anxiously looking to Rose for guidance. Everyone in the room began voicing their agreement.

“No, no that’s not…no, come on.” Rose tried to play it off. The voices just got louder, some people began plinking their champagne glasses lightly with utensils. She turned to John helplessly. Trying to think of a way out of the situation and coming up with nothing.

John clenched his jaw as the commotion got even louder. Bloody Mickey the Idiot. A thought struck him. He never said what kind of a kiss. He grabbed Rose’s hand, feeling her jump under his unexpected contact. 

“Ok, ok.” He said to the room, holding Rose’s hand up in the air. “Here we go.” He intentionally avoided eye contact with her as he pulled her hand towards his mouth. With a loud pop, he quickly placed a kiss on the back of her hand.   
Rose was surprised at how soft his lips felt against her skin. No, no, no. Bad train of thought. She bit the inside of her cheek as he raised her hand in the air once more, this time in triumph. They smiled at everyone, twisting back and forth, but never enough to look at each other. Groans of disappointment and laughter bounced around the room.

“Oi, spaceman! What was that rubbish? Kiss her on the mouth, like you mean it.” Donna’s voice was firm and full of mirth. Someone else began chanting ‘kiss her’ over and over, resulting in even more tinkling glasses. Donna practically bounced in her seat, clapping her hands steadily, several people mimicking her.   
John and Rose stared at each other. Neither of them wanting to do it, but neither of them finding an alternative either. The noise became too much. Rose broke first.

“Ok!” She barely remembered to keep her smile intact, so as not to come off threatening. She really wanted to slap the lot of ‘em. She turned towards John, both of them shuffling closer, prolonging what was now inevitable. “Just get it over with,” she hissed between her teeth. 

John only had half a grin on his face, his eyes widened in shock. She really expected him to kiss her? They both had been flirty once the whole engagement thing started, but only out of necessity. Or to try and push each other’s buttons. This was crossing the line in a whole new way. There was no way out of it though. He was growing quite tired of being forced into corners.   
They were only a couple of inches away now. Her eyes watched his every move. His gaze flicked to her lips for a fraction of a second, then back up. He flashed her a brilliant smile. “Here it goes.” He whispered for only her to hear.

The kiss was awkward and short, over almost as soon as it began. It was more a pressing of faces, than an actual kiss. Closed lips and overly dramatic kissing noises. John had shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. Rose had one hand up in the air behind her head, the other thrust out to the side. Their lips had touched, but the rest of their bodies repelled one another. They put as much distance as possible into the kiss, and it showed. 

Rose felt like a zoo exhibit, everyone groaned and booed. Someone yelled, “Give her a real one!” That was echoed by several more people. John caught sight of Mickey out of the corner of his eye, shaking his head. That bloody bastard had an annoyingly smug look on his face, and was trying not to laugh. John gathered his resolve, took a deep breath, then gently touched Rose’s wrist to get her attention. She looked at him, but it was a few seconds before she actually saw him, her thoughts were too chaotic. 

Aside from his hand wrapped loosely around her wrist, his body language said he was ready to run. He was rocking and swaying slightly on his feet, free hand vigorously tugging his ear. Focusing on his face, his eyes were boring into her. Kissing John was the last thing she wanted to do. But if she didn’t, too many people would question their relationship. An image of Mr. Saxon’s leering face flashed in her mind. She really didn’t fancy going to prison. Nodding her consent, she whispered through pursed lips, “Just do it. Just really fast.”

A smile tugged at his mouth, “That’s what we did last time.”

“You know what I mean.” This time the smile she gave him was genuine, complete with tongue barely peeking out between her parted lips. 

That was all he needed to seal the deal, so to speak. He zeroed in on her tongue, and licked his lips with his own. Rose’s heart thudded painfully in her chest. She was sure John could feel her pulse race underneath his fingers still at her wrist. John stepped forward, leaving hardly any space between them, taking control of the moment. Leaning down, he paused for an instant as her warm breath hit his face. Closing his eyes, his tenderly pressed his lips to hers. 

Rose had kept her eyes open, watching him nervously as his face came so close that it swam out of focus. His lips had been feather light at first, remembering he had an audience, he increased the pressure while still keeping it chaste. Rose’s eyes fluttered shut. Her body had remained stiff, so John opened his eyes. He caught her eyes just closing and felt her loosen, slightly leaning into him. Shutting his eyes, he gave in to the sensation of her full lips against his own. John’s hand slid down, taking ahold of her hand instead. Rose felt his hand shift positions and couldn’t help but entwine their fingers. She wondered at how they fit perfectly together and how soft his lips were. An internal voice screamed at her, telling her this was wrong. She locked it away and arched up, returning the pressure of his mouth with her own. John gripped her hand tighter and the unexpected response. Blood rushed in his ears and it took him a moment to register that people were clapping.

They sprung apart at the same instant. Their expressions were perfect mirrors of each other; parted lips, slightly flushed cheeks, and confusion in their eyes. 

Donna shuffled to her feet and came towards them. “Oh, I’m so bleedin’ happy!” She pulled them both into a fierce hug. “So happy!” She buried her face in both of their shoulders, holding them tighter. Donna’s hug caused them to be pressed together from the hip down, they made a point of not looking at one another. They didn’t shy away from the contact either.

The gathering only lasted another hour before Pete Tyler started ushering people out the door. He knew the signs of a tired daughter. Rose and John had successfully mingled and chatted throughout the evening. Gentle touches here, stolen glances there. Laughing and smiling with each other in all the right places. Rose knew everyone there, and she could tell everyone bought it. Although she wasn’t so sure about her mum. Every time she thought Jackie had bought in on it, she closed herself off and began getting that hardened scrutinizing look she got when trying to figure out a puzzle. She would worry about Jackie tomorrow.

Rose and John were currently seated on the sofa Jackie and Donna occupied earlier. John was reclined back in the seat, ankle of one leg resting on the knee of the other. His suit jacket was all the way unbuttoned and his hair was more wild than usual from too much fidgeting. His left arm stretched out on the armrest, fingers tapping, and the right rested on the back of the sofa, behind Rose. 

Rose sat as close to John as she could without actually touching him. The kiss they had shared earlier had her significantly flustered. All the touching and tender looks had only made things worse. Her mind was in over drive and she desperately needed a break. Groaning, she leaned her head against John’s shoulder.

“My company that bad?” John’s tone was light as he fought the urge to wrap his arm around her shoulder. Ever since the last kiss, his body had been aching to touch her. He knew he needed to get away from her to collect himself, but they hadn’t had the chance. He felt Rose chuckle softly against his side.

“It’s not that. Surprisingly.” Rose normally would have had a go at his usual rude behavior, but she didn’t have it in her right now. “It’s…”

“It’s what?” John actually sounded like he cared.

She was touched, and decided to just get it out. “It’s just-“

“Oh look!” John sat forward, forcing Rose to move so he could have use of his arm. He turned to look at her, eyes sparkling. “Pete is making everyone leave. Brilliant. I don’t know about you, but I could use some rest. And I am at my wits end with all these people.”

And just like that, the moment was gone. Rose crossed her arms, infuriated with herself for thinking he would actually listen. She was thankful that Pete was getting people out, especially now. She felt like a fool and began putting her walls back into place. John sat obliviously next to her, counting down until the last person was finally gone.

At long last, Pete and Donna came over to lead them to where they would sleep. Jackie had disappeared at some point, without saying goodnight, which only worsened Rose’s dark mood. Reaching the second floor, Pete took them down a hall and to the last door on the right. He entered first, followed by Donna and John, Rose bringing up the rear.

“Here we are.” Pete stated as he gestured around the room, moving so that everyone else could file in. John’s eyes widened as he took in the room. It was huge. Really, properly huge. The wood paneling that had been on the main floor, ran all the way up to the ceiling in this room. Windows took up the entirety of the wall to his left and the one across the room. There was also a pair of glass double doors on the far wall that led out to what seemed to be a quite sizeable deck. To his right was a desk, with all manner of shelves and cabinets built into the wall. Tucked away in the left corner was an elegant dark brown chair and ottoman. A small glass coffee table sat in the middle of the room, it was positioned in front of a dark orange and brown floral patterned sofa. The back of the sofa was flush against the object currently holding John’s attention.

“Wow,” John managed to breathe out. His eyes were riveted to the gargantuan, yes gargantuan, sized bed. The muted green head board rose high above the mattress. The cream duvet was pulled back and various sized pillows in browns and greens piled up against the headboard. John’s throat went dry. “Wow…umm…this is beautiful. And the view…” John strolled to the glass doors, hands once again buried in his trouser pockets. 

“And here’s the bed.” John whirled around to see Donna smiling shamelessly, patting the footboard. Rose only had enough energy to roll her eyes.

“Yes. That’s, um, that’s an exquisite bed. Exquisite.” He pulled a hand out of his pocket, nervously rubbing his neck. “So um…where is, where is Rose’s room?”

Pete chuckled. “We aren’t under any illusions that the two of you don’t sleep in the same bed.” He was smiling, but John saw the hardness in his eyes as they flicked to Rose. Right, don’t hurt his daughter. Point taken.

“She’s gonna sleep in here with you sunshine.” Donna threw him a wink. 

“Oh, brilliant. Because we uh…we love to snuggle. Don’t we, dear?” It was the first thing that popped into John’s mind.

Rose had been idly pacing the room, stopping short beside John as she registered what he said. “Oh yeah. Huge snugglers.” She nodded, not trusting herself to say more than that.

A streak of orange came careening through the room, bounding on the coffee table, and then springing towards John. He jumped behind Rose, grabbing her shoulders and using her as a shield. “What is that?”

Pete groaned, “Sorry about that. That’s Isolus.”

Rose bent down towards the orange ball of fur. “Aren’t you a beautiful boy?” She cooed as she picked up what John could now see was a kitten. The kitten snuggled into her arms, purring. John released her shoulders and backed away with a look of disgust.

“We just rescued him from the pound. He’s thinks he’s a dog. And I’m pretty sure he got into the cat nip earlier.” Pete reached forward and affectionately stroked the kitten, still cuddled in Rose’s arms.

“Just you lot be careful and don’t let him outside. The eagles will snatch him.” Donna implored. That actually wasn’t a bad idea, John thought to himself.

“Awww, don’t you listen to her. You’re too cute for that.” Rose said soothingly to the kitten.

Pete chuckled and walked to a nearby closet. “There are extra towels and linens and such in here if you need them.”

John moved closer so he could peer into the closet Pete had opened. The move unintentionally brought him closer to Rose. Isolus began to climb up on her shoulder. Noticing John’s close proximity, she encouraged the orange ball of fluff to clamor up her shoulder. Isolus, now halfway perched atop Rose, reached a paw out towards John. He jumped back, shaking his head, huge frown marring his face. Rose giggled and snuggled Isolus as she pulled him back to her chest.

Donna walked over to the closet and pulled out a blue and green patterned quilt. “If you two get chilly tonight. Use this. It has special powers.” She handed the quilt to John with a cheeky grin.

John took the blanket, turning it over in his hands. Special powers? Donna either used her age to her advantage, or she was a right nutter. “Powers? What kind of special powers?”

Donna took Isolus from Rose, not making eye contact. “I call it the baby maker.” Looking up, she winked at John, eyes sparkling.

It was all he could do to not throw the blanket out a window. Or preferably into a fire. John coughed, “Oh. Well…we’ll just have to be super careful with that one.” He passed the blanket to Rose, panic written all over his face.

“Yeah…I’m just gonna…” Rose wasn’t sure how to answer. And she definitely didn’t want to be touching the ‘special’ quilt. She tossed it on the bed, trying not to shudder.

“Don’t throw it on the bed!” John hissed. Rose stared at him, shrugging her shoulders. She didn’t want to be holding it any more than he did.

Pete cleared his throat. “Well, I think we better turn in. It’s been a long day.” He looked to Donna before heading out the door.

Donna kissed Rose on the cheek, “Good night dear.”

“Good night Gran,” Rose said with a soft smile.

Donna looked at John and didn’t hide her playful snicker, “Good night.”

John gulped. “Er…good night.”

Halfway to the door, Donna turned back to them, still chuckling, “Good night.”

“Good night.” Rose and John chirped in unison. They both began to relax and move away from each other. 

Donna called over her shoulder, “Good night.”

They jumped back towards each other, faking enjoying the nearness. 

“Thank you. Good night.” John called back, overly cheerful.

“Night Gran. Bye now.” Rose was a little more forceful.

Pete popped back into view, shaking his head. He nodded to the engaged couple, then gently guided Donna out of the room, closing the door behind them.

Finally alone and away from prying eyes, they settled into an awkward silence. Too much had happened for them to slip back into the roles of boss and assistant. The fact that they were now sharing a bedroom hindered that as well. And they had never been legitimate friends, so they weren’t able to joke off the weirdness of the situation. 

Rose quietly indicated the en suite. John collected his things, which someone had indeed brought to the room for them, and entered the adjoining room to prepare for bed. He took a little longer than normal, trying to relax and not dwell on everything that had happened in the past 24 hours.

Rose spread blankets out on the floor, fully prepared to sleep there herself. John probably never slept on the floor once in his life. She had done so for fun when she was younger. It wouldn’t be a bother. There was no way that she was sharing the bed with him, that was certain. 

John stepped out of the en suite and shoved items back into his suitcase, but laying his suit carefully on top. He was wearing grey cotton pajama bottoms and a white vest. Rose had never seen this much of him before, and even though he was still technically fully clothed, she had to fight not to ogle. He shifted nervously on his feet then tugged on his ear. “So what are we doing?” 

“Well, you can take the bed. And I’m gonna sleep here on the floor.” Rose replied, gathering what she would need to get herself ready for bed.

John eyed the blankets spread on the floor where the coffee table had been. “Rose?”

“Really, it’s fine.” Rose’s response was curt as she headed towards the en suite.

John shook his head, then spoke softly. “I know I am a lot of things, unforgivable prat being one of them I suppose.” He gave a halfhearted smile as Rose tried, and failed, to protest. “And while I can be exceedingly rude, I’m not that rude. I’ll take the floor.”

Rose could only nod before she pulled the en suite door closed. Rose too, took longer than usual to get ready for bed. She felt more herself after her nightly routine, but was slightly nervous about her attire. They had been planning on separate rooms. She chastised herself. Of course Jackie wouldn’t let them stay at a hotel.

John’s voice called to her from the bedroom. “So I take you haven’t been home in a while?”

Rose snorted. “I haven’t exactly had a lot of vacation time in the past three years.”

“Stop complaining.” Just the few minutes apart had been enough to put him back in his normal arrogant mannerisms. He shifted on the floor, trying to cover himself completely with the blanket.

Rose rolled her eyes, but otherwise ignored him. She cracked the door open, hesitant about crossing the room. She nervously chewed her lip. “Umm…don’t look ok?”

John sighed, “Ok.” Don’t look? How old was she, 12? Not like he hadn’t seen a woman in jim jams before.

“Are your eyes closed?” Rose nervously inquired, opening the door just a bit more.

“Completely.” He lied.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. I think I know what my eyes are doing.” He tried not to laugh.

Taking a deep breath, Rose padded across the room, eyes focused on the bed. John turned his head as his eyes followed her movement. She was wearing pink plaid shorts that didn’t even reach mid-thigh, and a solid pink cotton shirt, the kind with really thin straps. All his brain could focus on were legs. Long, well toned legs. Wasn’t she cold?

“Those…those are the pajamas you decided to bring to Alaska?” In his effort to sound uninterested in her appearance, his tone came out quite a bit harsher than intended.

Rose froze on the edge of the bed. He had seen. The lying git. What a typical man. She shook her head. ”I was supposed to be in a hotel, alone. I honestly didn’t think my mum would cancel our reservations. Especially since she knew it was you and-“

“Can we just go to sleep?” John snapped. He didn’t need to go over just how much Jackie despised him.

“Fine.”

“Brilliant.”

Rose flopped back on the bed, nestling into the pillows. She closed her eyes. Every time she started to drift off to sleep, she heard John shuffling and huffing on the floor.

The sun was still in the sky, even with the late hour. Bloody Alaska. John couldn’t get comfortable. Every time he shifted, the sun still streamed in on to his face. “Guess I won’t be getting much sleep,” he snapped. He heard Rose move on the bed, then there was the beep of a remote. The long curtains pulled shut, leaving the room in darkness. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Rose grunted in response.

Darkness and silence filled the room. Rose and John stared unknowingly at the same spot on the ceiling. Each drowning in their own thoughts until drifting off to sleep.


	5. Problems With Local Wildlife

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to bittie752 for being absolutely fabulous. :)

A high pitched beeping jerked John from his sleep. The room was still bathed in darkness, causing it to be several seconds before his eyes adjusted. The beep sounded again. Phone! John attempted to bolt upright and roll out of bed. Only he wasn’t in a bed. Too late he remembered where he was and why he was sleeping on the floor. His sudden movements resulted in becoming tangled in the mass of blankets that had served as his bed during the night.

“Rose.” His voice was soft but insistent. Her shallow breathing from the bed above was all he heard before another set of beeps pierced the air. “Rose!” He hissed between clenched teeth. Still nothing. He somehow managed to get to his feet, jumbled in blankets. 

“Rose, phone!” He thrashed wildly, trying to free himself. He lost balance, collapsing on the sofa at the foot of the bed. The grunt of his landing combined with another hiss of her name, finally caused Rose to stir, angry beeping continuing in the background. Freeing himself, John dashed over to the coffee table, searching frantically.

“ROSE, PHONE!” How could she sleep through all the bloody beeping? Not finding his phone on the coffee table he considered pouncing on her, betting the shock of sharing a bed would be enough to wake her. He had taken two steps towards the bed, when another trill of beeps woke Rose up enough to speak.

“Suit jacket, right pocket.” Her voice was laced with irritation, and she hadn’t even lifted her head from the pillow to speak.

Crossing the room, John quickly fished his phone from the pocket, glancing quickly at the caller id, Joan Redfern. Bloody brilliant. Dragging a hand down his face, he flipped open the phone. “Joan, darling. How are you?” The line was staticky and he could barely tell that Joan was trying to speak. “Joan?”

Not able to understand her other attempt at talking, John began to dance and pace around the room, trying to find that sweet service spot. Damn this place in the middle of bleeding nowhere. “Joan, the service here in terrible. Can you hear me?”

He caught his name and the panic in her voice, then static over took again. He yelled into the phone, “Joan, just a minute!” 

A pillow connected with the side of his face, nearly toppling him. He twisted around. Rose was propped up on her elbow, hair adorably muddled from sleep. John almost dropped the phone at the sight of her. That is until he took in her irate expression. “Stop bloody yelling.” She bit out at him, collapsing back onto the bed.

“Joan, just a minute,” he whispered, pulling on his slippers then padding out the door. He managed to find his way through the house and out the front door. The morning air was chilly and he cursed himself for not grabbing another layer of clothing. He had caught bits and pieces of Joan’s complaints as he had ducked through the hallways. She was second guessing the Oprah gig. As if he didn’t have enough to deal with this weekend.

“Joan, Joan. Listen to me. I’m sorry you feel like I pressured you into the Oprah thing. I-“

“Don’t you want me to be happy, John? Isn’t that what you get paid for?” Joan’s voice was shrill.

John ground his teeth together, she was so full of herself. “Of course I want you to be happy! Joan-“ He was cut off by another round of hysterics. 

“Joan, dear. Joan, it will be fine.” His voice was firm and reassuring as he bounded down the porch steps, out into the grass. “I can call and cancel if that’s what you want.”

Joan rambled about he wasn’t quite sure what. He wasn’t entirely listening. He was tired, sore, and not in the mood to butter her up. He settled for muttering supportive statements whenever she paused for breath.

“Yes, Joan. You’re right.” His tone was bored and he made no move to conceal it.

“Are you even listening to me, John?” Joan snapped.

“What? Of course I’m listening to you? When have I not? I love listening to you!” This time he forced feeling into his words. John closed his eyes, steeling himself for Joan’s next breakdown, and felt something brush against his leg. His eyes popped wide and he stumbled back. Where his feet had been just a second before, the orange bundle that was Isolus stared up at him with innocent eyes, purring.

“Oh, but that…that is disgusting.” John wrinkled his nose as he realized the kitten had been rubbing against his legs. Isolus crept towards him, meowing loudly. “Now you stop that.” John pointed a finger at the kitten, making shushing noises in the process.

“Excuse me? Did you…did you just tell me to-to shush?” Joan was indignant, and almost too late, John grasped what he’d done.

“What? Oh that…no, no. I wasn’t talking to you. I was…” John narrowed his eyes at Isolus and strolled away, refocusing on the conversation. “The point is, Joan, I think it would be a mistake to cancel. Huge mistake, giant mistake!”

There was a pause on the other end. “Why?”

“Because…” Well shit, he had really put his foot in it this time. Joan was a decent author, but she wasn’t that great. For whatever reason, people just kept buying her books. John’s opinion didn’t really matter. All he had to do was stroke her ego, whether he believed his words or no. “Because, um, for many years you have, that is, you have inspired me with your beautiful words! And I think it’s high time the world gets to hear them too.” 

Isolus pounced around on the ground in front of John, playing with something in the grass, meowing rather noisily. 

“Can’t you see I’m on the phone, you little hairball?” John whispered. Joan’s quiet cough caught his attention. Right, the phone call. “Your words are just so full of passion, so full of life. That…” John’s voice trailed off as he heard the screech of an eagle.

“I just…” John tried to continue speaking coherently as his eyes flicked between the circling predator and Isolus, who was now a little ways off. “I want you to be happy, Joan. I…”

John watched on in horror as the eagle swooped down, seizing the kitten in its talons. Seriously, now? Now of all times?

“Give me back that cat!” John yelled at the bird, as if that would actually do any good. Running after the eagle, who was struggling to get airborne, he was vaguely aware of Joan snapping in his ear. “Joan, I’m sorry. But I…Joan, I’m going to need you to hold on.” 

Doing the only thing he could think of, he hurled the phone toward the eagle. The bird jolted sideways, losing its grip on Isolus. John dove forward, catching the falling blur of orange tight in his outstretched arms. He regained his balance before falling face first into the grass. Giving the cat a look of loathing, John tucked him under an arm. Leaning down to pick up his from phone from the grass, he heard the eagle screech overhead.

Twisting frantically to pinpoint where the bird had gone, he spoke hurriedly into the phone, “Joan? I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Look, I’m not trying to sell you on anything.” John saw the eagle wheel around, headed back in his direction. It shrieked again, wings flapping powerfully. Isolus hissed, burrowing himself further into John’s arm. John briskly walked back towards the house, casting nervous glances over his shoulder and into the air. 

“This book is your legacy, Joan. And it’s up to you to show it to the world.” John increased his stride as the eagle slowly descended. “Ovbiously, this is your choice. And my phone is on all the time. Bye!”

The eagle swooped down. John ducked, placing the hand holding the phone over his head for protection. He felt the eagle’s talons mingle with his fingers. His heart beat painfully in his chest, waiting for the pain. None came. The talons left his hand, and so did his phone.

“What?!” John bolted upright. “No. No, no, no.” The bird began flapping away. “Take the bloody cat!” John held Isolus up in the air with both hands as an offering, shouting obscenities. He ran around the yard, shaking the cat, trying to get the bird’s attention. “I need that phone!”

 

Try as she might, Rose couldn’t get back to sleep. John and his stupid work phone. Groaning, she rolled out of bed. She pulled on her grey hoodie, glided her feet into some slippers, then tamed her wild hair into submission before heading downstairs. 

Coming down the stairs, she heard soft laughter coming from one of the rooms. Following the sounds, she found Pete and Donna looking out one of the windows. Donna was beginning to hoot and Pete was shaking his head.

“What are you two looking at?” Rose questioned as she approached them. “Have you seen-“ Rose’s mouth hung open. Out on the lawn, John was running in circles like a maniac, holding Isolus towards the sky.

“He’s playing with Isolus. Bloody adorable.” Donna wiped tears brought on by laughter from her eyes.

“We thought he didn’t like him.” Pete chuckled softly.

“Will you be a dear and go get him?” Donna asked. “Your father and I have a whole day planned for him. And he needs to get ready. His hair is a right mess.”

“It always looks something like that,” Rose muttered. She walked out the door, wondering what surprise they could possibly have for him. Whatever it was, he was sure to hate it. 

John had stopped moving, but still had Isolus up in the air. “Please, please, please.” 

“What the hell are you doing?” Rose’s voice was harsh as she stepped towards him, hands in the pockets of her hoodie.

John lowered Isolus, idly keeping hold of him with one hand while he spoke animatedly with the other. “Your gran was right. The eagle came and tried to take the dog. But then I saved him. But then the bloody thing came back!” Rose peered up at the sky, there was no eagle in sight. He was panting and clearly out of breath. She wasn’t sure if she believed him, or if he had just been running around like a nutter. “He took my phone, Rose. My phone!”

Rose stopped right in front of him and searched his face. “Are you drunk?”

John blinked hard. “What? No! Rose, I am quite serious. He’s flying away with my phone as we speak! And Joan is calling me on that phone! She’s freaking out.” He ruffled his hair, trying not to panic himself. The Oprah gig was on the line, and his phone had been taken by some ruddy bird.

“Relax.” Rose was exasperated. She still wasn’t sure if she bought the eagle story. But he wouldn’t be freaking out so much if he hadn’t lost his phone somehow. “We’ll just order you another phone, with the same number. And we can pick it up in town tomorrow, yeah?”

“Really?” John was disbelieving, looking at her in confusion.

“Yup,” Rose said, popping her ‘p’ again. 

“Oh. Ok. Well…” John looked at the kitten still in his arms. “You can bugger off then.” His tone was tough, but he set Isolus down with great care.

Rose rolled her eyes. “Right, well you need to get ready.”

“What for?” He stood back up, looking at her with a puzzled expression.

“You’re going out with Pete and Gran. I’m guessing you’ll meet some of the guys in town.”

John shook his head. “I don’t want to go out.”

“Drinking, sight seeing, and a surprise.” Rose smiled at him sweetly.

“I hate drinking,” he sniffed, shaking his head more vehemently. He didn’t really hate it, per se, but it was not high on his list of things he enjoyed either.

“Oh, you’ll love it.”

“I hate surprises.” He fixed her with what she supposed was meant to be a threatening glare.

Rose giggled. “You’re going. Have to keep up appearances after all.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I’m not going.”

“Yes you are.”

“Fine.”

Rose gaped. “Fine? You’re actually agreeing to this?”

John shrugged. “Like you said, appearances and all. Now give me a hug.”

“What?” Rose’s eyebrows shot to her hairline.

“We don’t want your family to think we’re fighting.” John smirked, inclining his head toward the house ever so slightly. Pete and Donna stood at the window, watching.

“I am so not hugging you.” It was Rose’s turn to shake her head in denial.

“Yup. Hug time.” John reached forward, grabbing the fabric of her hoodie near both hips.

“No, John. I don’t-“Rose pulled her hands out of her pockets, meaning to push him away. Too slow, her arms sandwiched between them as John wrapped his arms around her, pulling her body flush against his.

“There we go.” He rubbed her back, murmuring into her hair. “That’s nice. Isn’t this nice?”

Rose’s heart pounded in her chest and her stomach twisted in knots. Subconsciously, she relaxed in his arms, lightly gripping his shirt with both hands. She swallowed hard as she felt one of his hands drift lower on her back. Impulsively, she clenched his shirt tighter when his hand wandered down to rest on her bum, slowly caressing in a tiny circle. She inwardly kicked herself for her reaction, yet she was also thankful that her arms were between them. They provided a buffer, preventing him from feeling her heart hammer harder against her rib cage.

“Boop, boop.” John chuckled, gently patting her arse. He couldn’t help it. He had wanted to do it since last night, when she had bounced to bed thinking he wasn’t watching. He blamed her short pajama bottoms. That and the fact that she had seized the opportunity herself just the day before. He only hoped that she couldn’t feel his erratic heart beat underneath her hands that were bunched into his vest.

Rose’s jaw tightened. “If you touch my arse one more time. I will cut your balls off in your sleep. Ok?”

John gulped. “Ok.” He gave her one last squeeze before pulling away. “That was payback, just so you’re aware.”

Rose paled. Shit, she had forgot about that. Still… “Well…even so. Are we clear?”

John nodded, amusement dancing in his eyes, arms hanging uselessly at his sides. “Crystal.”

“Good.” Rose sighed, then reached up to cup his cheek. She gave him a tongue touched smile, watching his pupils dilate and his mouth falling open as she gently tickled his sideburn. She stilled her hand, locked eyes with his. She pulled her hand back just far enough to land a firm smack on his cheek.

“Ow.” He flinched but resisted the urge to rub where a red mark was forming.

“Such a good fiancée.” Rose grinned innocently at him before heading back up to the house. John watched her, eyes glued to the movement of her legs before following her inside.

John had spent the morning wandering the town with Pete and Donna. Clad in a blue pin-striped suit, brown oxford, and red trainers he found himself not feeling completely tortured. The sight-seeing wasn’t so bad, and the company wasn’t either. So far it had been pleasant, if a bit dull.

Around lunch time, Donna announced they would be going someplace special to eat, and meeting a couple people. John threw an internal fit. Here comes the part he was dreading the most, drinks and socializing with people he didn’t know. Probably Rose’s old boyfriends. Ugh, he was going to make himself sick. Oh, there was an idea. Maybe he could get out of it that way. Fake ill and go back to the mansion? Then he would be stuck indoors with Rose all day. Probably not a good idea either, considering he hadn’t properly sorted through the thoughts his mind was beginning to have about her. Doing what he did best, he locked them away in a dark part of his mind, for inspection at a later date. That date presumably being never.

They made their way to a little dive, called Bad Wolf Tavern. John was mildly surprised that ‘Tyler’ hadn’t been in the name, but hadn’t been shocked to find out that Pete still owned the place. Mickey and Rory met them out front. Brilliant. Just what he needed, bonding time with Mickey the Idiot. In short order they were all seated at a table, an overflowing bucket of peanuts in the middle and beers all around. John hung his suit jacket over the chair, rolling up his shirt sleeves, so as to avoid getting stains. He really didn’t want to worry about beer all over one of his favorite suits.

“I hope you’re ready for your big surprise, pretty boy. This is one of Sitka’s greatest treasures.” Donna winked at him, then positioned herself to get a better view of the stage he hadn’t noticed before. The rest of the men sniggered and hid their faces.

John looked at Pete, seated on the other side of him, questioningly.

“It’s a tradition,” Pete said, attempting to regain his composure.

John opened his mouth to speak, but the room went dark.

“Here’s your big surprise, mate. Hope you’re ready.” John heard Mickey’s voice and didn’t need to see his face to tell he was smirking.

A spotlight appeared on the stage, illuminating a single wooden chair. Bloody hell. What had he been dragged into? Music blared over the speakers, the bass thrumming hard and fast. People around him whistled and cheered. 

Donna, now more in front of instead of beside him, leaned back to speak to him. “I bleeding love this.” John quirked his eyebrow in response. He had the feeling, he was about to watch an amateur strip show. His stomach dropped. No, no, no. This is sooooo not what he wanted. And why was Donna more excited than the other blokes at their table? He could understand Pete and Rory toning it down, they were married men after all. But from what he had gathered, Mickey was free as a bird.

More spotlights lit up the stage, the main light now weaving crazily all over the walls. As the lyrics started, the light froze an alcove above the bar, just to the right of the stage. The moose and plaid (moose and plaid, who’s hideous idea was that?) patterned blanket was pushed aside with a flourish. The audience screamed. A man with sleek dark hair and piercing blue eyes perched on the edge of the alcove. He was wearing black pants, a mock up sleeveless tux top, and white cuffs at his wrists. John grimaced. Oh good lord. No wonder Donna was so excited. The man’s face was serious, the smallest hint of a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, and he turned his head slowly, surveying the hooting crowd. His eyes danced with mischief.

John’s face contorted even further as he recognized him. It was the server from the party. John groaned.

The man flung his legs out over the edge. With surprising grace, he dropped down to the bar, one hand holding onto a rope. Flinging his arms wide, he crouched down. With another flurry of action, he swung around to the stage. He released the rope and spun around on the spot. Colored lights played around the stage. A huge grin spread across his face as he threw his arms open again. He moved across the stage, hips thrusting and swaying to the beat. John almost threw up. It’s not that the man was unattractive, he was indeed very handsome and exuded a certain roguish charm. But he was very far from John’s type. An image of Rose flashed in his mind. He felt a sinking feeling in his stomach, hoping against hope that this wasn’t leading where he thought it was.

Mickey leaned forward to get John’s attention. “Jack’s the only exotic dancer on the island, mate.”

“But we are so lucky to have him.” Donna chimed in, eyes following the man back and forth across the stage, predatory gleam in her eyes. John bit the inside of his cheek, trying to fight the rising bile in his throat.

Up on stage, the dancer (or waiter?) jumped to the center. Bending at the knees, he gripped his flimsy excuse of a top. With an exaggerated wink, he pulled it off, revealing a well-toned upper body and leaving the bowtie still intact. Donna whistled. Standing tall, he spun the garment over his head twice before unleashing it into the audience. John shook his head as a woman approached the stage, shoving several American bills into his waistband. 

Donna squealed like a school girl, grabbing her hand bag off the table. Pulling out her own stash of money, she yelled, “Over here! Over here!”

Jack bounced toward Donna in time with the bass, making a ridiculous bird motion with his hands. He stood right in front of her, hands in the air, hips swaying slightly from side to side. Donna licked her lips as she slide the money into the waist of his trousers. John was torn. He wanted to run from Jack being too close for comfort, he didn’t want to be recognized. But he also wanted to laugh at Donna’s actions. Here she was, 90 years old, and she was whistling and cheering just as enthusiastically as the twenty-somethings scattered throughout the place.

Leaning away from Donna (and therefore Jack) something was thrust over his head, obstructing his vision. He tried to fight free, but several hands were on his arms. What was going on? Was this a kidnapping?? He realized that whoever it was, was laughing and directing his limbs through what he assumed were shirt sleeves. Fabric scratched down his face, clearing his vision. He looked down at himself. Oh no, no, no. His head snapped up. Pete, Rory, and Mickey were hanging on one another, laughing wildly. They had put on one of those corny groom t-shirts, the screen print of a tux covering the front but not continuing the pattern on the back.

Mickey paused his laughter long enough to squeeze in a sentence. “Now you’re ready.”

John raised his eyebrow. “Ready for what?” He had a feeling Mickey wasn’t referring to getting married, despite the ridiculous shirt he was now wearing.

Jack focused on John, using his hands to represent a fishing reel. “Come on my sexy prince.”

John swallowed. “Um, no. No thank you. That’s, er, that’s a very generous offer. But I have to…I need to…” John could tell all eyes were on him. Jack leaned forward, beckoning him with the flick of his finger, hips in constant motion. Groaning, John took a huge swig of his beer. Rose was so going to be paying for this later. “Right. Just…pluck my eyes out,” he muttered, reluctantly taking Jack’s hand. He wished he had ordered something stronger.

The crowded cheered as Jack led John up to the stage. Facing the audience, John awkwardly waved and bowed his head. Jack presented him proudly with a huge sweeping gesture of his arm. He then shoved John back on to the wooden chair. John had never fought the urge to run so hard in his life. He gripped the seat of the chair until his knuckles were white, legs pulled in as tightly as possible to avoid Jack as he pranced around on stage.

“Give it to him, Jack!” Donna’s distinct voice could be heard above the noise.

“You got it,” Jack said with a wink. Jack moved in front of John, planting his feet firmly and facing the crowd. John didn’t even want to know what ‘it’ Donna had been referring too. But it was probably too late. Sure enough, he watched in appalled horror as Jack, with a cheeky grin for the audience, gripped his trousers and ripped them off, much the same way he had done his top, leaving him in a snug pair of black pants. The crowd erupted in cheers, John quickly averted his gaze and tried to fold in on himself even more. 

Jack looked back over his shoulder, laughing mercilessly. He stuck his bum out just a bit, wiggling it from side to side, and watched John squirm in his seat. John released the seat bottom in an effort to hold his hands up in a protective gesture. This was awful. No, this was beyond awful. He couldn’t even think of ways to get even with Rose because his mind was so full of thoughts of getting as far away from here as possible. He tried to gauge the distance to the nearest door.

Jack dropped to the floor, rolling on his back and placing a foot on each side of John’s chair. Winking up at John (he was really getting tired of the winking), he thrust his hips up in the air, in perfect timing. John choked and hugged one knee to his chest. He stretched a hand out, placing it just so in order to avoid seeing a certain aspect of Jack that was coming frighteningly close to his vulnerable leg. Mickey and Pete doubled over in laughter. Rory took pictures with his camera phone, trying to subdue his amusement and steady his arm.

Jack raised a leg, sweeping it in front of John as he rolled on to his stomach, then pushed himself up in one fluid movement. Making indecipherable movements (was he clawing at him?) with his hands, Jack pranced around behind John. John relaxed for a moment, placing his guarded foot back to the floor.

At a tap of his shoulder, John jerked his head around. Jack placed a foot on the rung of the chair and a hand on its back. With practiced movements, Jack lifted himself up into the air to the beat. Each thump of the bass brought Jack’s crotch close to John’s head. Oh god. John brought a hand up, he didn’t want to touch that, didn’t want to even see it really. But if a touch was going to happen, he would rather it be his hand than his cheek. John shuddered and tried to mentally convince his stomach that its contents should stay in place.

Jack hopped off the chair, snatching John’s hand.

“No. I don’t want to touch it.” John knew he must sound like a child trying to convince his parent’s he didn’t need to go to bed, but he didn’t care.

Jack chuckled and placed a kiss on the back of John’s hand. John laughed nervously, resisting the urge to punch him. Please let this be the end. Jack pulled John’s hand so that it rested against his cheek. With a twinkle in his eyes, Jack shoved two of John’s fingers into his mouth, thankfully carefully keeping his tongue away from the enclosed digits. The audience howled with laughter. 

John recoiled, wrenching his hand away with such force that he almost toppled off the chair. He wiped his hand vigorously on his trousers, scraping his tongue along his top teeth in disgust. Rose would have hell to pay when he got back. If he ever made it out alive. Death was starting look like a better option, he thought bitterly.

Jack grinned then stepped slightly to the side and in front of the chair. He began swinging his hips to the music. The arc of his motions getting wider and wider. Twisting his body just enough, he began thrusting forward with each beat. Turning so that on one beat his bum shot towards John, the next beat it was his crotch. 

John groaned in frustration. Would this bloody song ever end? He would rather eat an entire basket full of pears than be subjected to this ever, ever again.

“Smack his arse!” Donna yelled over the noise.

“What?” John was incredulous, surely he heard her wrong.

“You heard me, spaceman! Smack his arse!” John could barely see her making a smacking motion in the air. Several people echoed her suggestion, egging him on.

John worried that his face might be permanently stuck in a grimace after this ordeal ended. Timing the beat, John lightly tapped John’s arse while turning his head. That was one image he didn’t need to be stuck with. The crowd cheered and applauded loudly.

Jack faked a surprised bounce into the air, hand held up to his o-shaped mouth. Smirking, he shook his head and finger at the audience. 

John found Pete through the blurry lights, shaking with laughter. He clenched his jaw. “Can I get down now?”

Pete nodded and beckoned him forward. 

He didn’t need to be told twice. He lurched out of the chair, briskly walking towards the table, Jack right behind him, still putting on a show. 

John caught sight of a door a few short paces away. “I think it’s your turn, Donna.” He patted her shoulder then darted outside.

Once outside, John quickly removed the t-shirt from over his oxford. He would have to burn it, there was no question about it. Every time he looked at it, he would think of Jack. He shivered, and it wasn’t from the chilly air. The door had led him to an outside seating area. A wood and netted railing prevented guests from falling, or jumping, into the icy water below. The patio gave a wonderful view of the bay. Water sparkled in the afternoon light, boats dotting the surface here and there. The tiny town stretched along the coast line, poking out between pine trees.

John leaned on the railing with a heavy sigh, running a hand through his wild hair. He twisted the shirt in his hands. He could just drop it in the water, claim it was an accident. A frown creased his brow as he drifted deeper into his thoughts.

The door creaked open behind him.

“Ah, here you are.” Mickey’s voice warred with this music still blaring inside, until the door swung shut once more. “How are you holding up, boss?”

“Fine, fine.” John brushed Mickey’s question aside. He came out here to be alone, not bare his soul to Rose’s ex. Mickey leaned on the railing next to him, beer in hand. Maybe he needed more of a hint. “Just taking a breather.”

Mickey snorted, shaking his head. “Yeah, the Tylers can be a tad overwhelming.”

Something in Mickey’s tone told John he was being genuine, not trying to find a way to poke fun at him. John turned to look at him, arching his eyebrow. “A tad? I’d say that’s an understatement. Pete’s not so bad. Donna is a right handful, and I haven’t even gotten to know Jackie. Something tells me she’s the worst.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” Mickey laughed loudly. “Truth be told, I’d say too much time here brings out the nutter in all of them. They can relax more here than they can in London. Less tabloid mess here.”

John hadn’t missed Mickey’s thick accent, and couldn’t help his curiosity. “You’re from London too. Do you live here now?”

“No.” Mickey shook his head then looked out over the water. “Used to visit here with them a lot back in the day. It’s the only other place I’ve been. Try to stick to London as much I can. Rose was always the one wanting to get out, see the world.”

“You were pretty serious, hmm?” John tried to keep the bite out of his voice. Even though they were technically engaged, that’s all it was, a technicality. Rose wasn’t really his and her past (or future) relationships were none of his business.

“We grew up together. Dated through school and for a bit after. We were kids.” Mickey shrugged his shoulders.

What a vague, evasive answer. John needed to know more. “And you called it off, because why?” John tried to sound casual, as if he only had a vague interest. Something flickered in Mickey’s face. Regret? Anger? John couldn’t tell. 

Mickey stood up straighter, rolling his shoulders. “Right, well. She ran off with some bloke named Jimmy.” John couldn’t help the surprised look that over took his face. Mickey smiled a bit. “We had broken up mind you, Rose isn’t one to cheat. That relationship ended badly. She came back and we got back together. Weren’t together very long when…” he let out a deep sigh before continuing. “I asked her to marry me. I hated what Jimmy had done to her, and I didn’t want it to happen again.” He shifted uncomfortably on his feet, staring at the water again.

Something clicked in John’s mind. “She said no?”

Mickey nodded, deflated. “She said no. I’ve never lived anywhere but London, it’s home. Sure I’ve been out here plenty of times. But that’s just to visit, and I don’t really count it when it feels like you’ve brought half of London with you.” He chuckled a little, smiling at the memories. “Rose wanted to get a better job, save up money, and then travel. End up living who knows where. That life’s not for me. Anyway…you’re a lucky bloke. Rose really is the best.” He shook himself, turning towards John with a knowing grin on his face. “Which, you already know.” He snorted and took a swig of his beer.

John was listening intently to Mickey’s story, taking it all in, processing bits and pieces. He almost didn’t register what Mickey’s last statement had been. “Hmm? Oh, yes. Yes, absolutely. She’s brilliant.” He smiled fondly, finding he only had to half fake it.

“Well, cheers to you two.” Mickey raised his beer, also smiling. John didn’t have anything but the balled up tux t-shirt. He raised it to Mickey’s beer anyway. 

Two patrons exited the door, sparing John and Mickey any further awkward conversation. The music and cheering spilled out of the door.

“Looks like Jack is wrapping it up.” Mickey winked at John then headed back into the restaurant. 

John watched him, catching a glimpse of Donna dancing on stage with Jack. Turning back to the water, John snickered and smiled despite himself. Rose’s family wasn’t really all that bad. Mickey, as it turned out, wasn’t that bad either. She would still have to answer for that dreadful stage performance they put him through. Thoughts of Rose and how he was starting to feel for her bubbled to the front of his mind. This was not how things were supposed to go. This was going to become a huge mess if his feelings for her continued to grow. Realizing he had just admitted to himself that he felt something for her scared him. He wanted to run, far and fast. Groaning, he leaned further on the railing, burying his face in his hands.


	6. Bonding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to bittie752, for continuing to give me feedback and words of encouragement. And thank you so much to everyone who has been reading this!

To avoid a mushy goodbye, Rose had told John to leave with Pete and Donna while she was in the shower. Couldn’t be forced to kiss while she was in the shower now could they? John’s eyes had nearly popped off out of his skull, his jaw working uselessly. She had been puzzled by his reaction. Until she had noticed his eyes wandering up and down her body, right before he mumbled an incoherent goodbye and tripped over his feet several times on his way out the door. Thankful he left in a hurry, feeling the color rise in her cheeks, she entered the en suite to shower. 

After she had dressed in another pair of jeans and a pink jumper, she headed down to the kitchen. It was large and the countertops were black granite. It was, of course, furnished with all the latest appliances. An island with four stools was positioned in the middle of the floor. Jackie was already bustling about, making tea. Rose was still upset that her mum hadn’t said goodnight, but she thought it might be a good idea to try and start over. Yesterday hadn’t gone so well. “Morning, mum.”

Jackie turned around, beaming. “Morning, sweetheart. Fancy a cuppa?”

“Mmm, that sounds amazing.” Rose sat in a stool beside the island.

“I thought so.” Jackie smiled at Rose again before rummaging through one of the cabinets. “Your father bought these…these mugs the other week. I still haven’t used them. They’re dark, dark blue. When you put hot liquid inside, the northern lights appear. Isn’t that amazing? Oh! Here we are!”

They prepared their tea and then settled in companionable silence, Jackie seated beside Rose. 

Jackie took a deep breath. “Actually, sweetheart. I’m glad it’s just us for a bit.” Rose nodded and smiled around a sip of tea. “Your father and I had a little chat last night, after he came to bed. Apparently, I wasn’t the most gracious of hosts last night.” A sad smile played around the edges of her mouth.

“Mum-“

Jackie held up her hand. “Just let-let me get this out. It was a right shock for you to show up here, with that man, and then find out you were getting married. Especially when no one even knew you two were dating!” Jackie fidgeted with her mug. Rose bit her lip, making sure her mum was done talking before she dared say anything in response. Looking up from her cup, Jackie softly said, “The point is…I owe you an apology. I’m sorry.”

Rose reached over and squeezed Jackie’s arm, smiling gently. “Accepted.”

Jackie nodded. “There’s something else. Pete has been going over his retirement plans. He’s built quite the business, here and back home, from the ground up. I’ve done my fair of helping, mind you. But, Rose, none of it means anything unless-“

“Unless you have someone to leave it to.” Rose’s eyes flashed in anger. Of course. It was always the same argument. “Mum, we’ve already talked about this.”

“Well, I’d like to talk about it again.” Jackie snapped. Rose crossed her arms over her chest. “You have responsibilities, Rose. I think I have been understanding of your goofing off at that job of yours in London. More than understanding if you ask me. And Pete, bless his heart, isn’t going to say anything. So it comes down to me. We need you to stop playing around and-“

“Again, mum? Again? When are you going to start taking what I do seriously?” Rose cut off Jackie with her outburst. She couldn’t help it. She was so tired of having the same spat over and over again. She was tired of feeling like she wasn’t enough.

“When you start acting seriously!” Jackie yelled back. They stared at each other for a heated moment.

Rose was the first to break the silence. She looked away, shaking her head and speaking just loud enough for Jackie to hear. “I’m sorry.” When she turned back towards her mother, her eyes were shining with unshed tears. “I feel sorry for you, mum. I wish you had another child. One who wanted to stay here, or stay in London. One who wanted to just stay put. One who wanted to take over from Pete when he’s done. One who wanted to marry someone that you approve of.” Jackie looked down, regret starting to creep in to her otherwise hardened expression. “Maybe you don’t understand my life right now. Sitting in an office, reading books. Maybe you don’t understand that when the time comes, I want to travel the world. But it makes me happy, mum. Can’t you understand that?” Rose pleaded, hands now resting in her lap, twisting in anticipation.

For a moment Rose thought Jackie finally understood. When she looked back up, Rose knew she had been wrong. “If that’s what makes you happy, love…I got nothing to say.”

“Well that’s a first,” Rose snapped, jumping off her stool. “Have fun in here, by yourself.” She gripped the counter tightly, feeling the anger wash away and morph into a deep hurt that clenched her heart. “And you know what? Apology, not accepted.” She stormed out of the room, not wanting to see the same hurt in her mother’s eyes.

Rose stomped up the stairs and back into her room. She paced vigorously across the floor, heels of her palms pushing into her eyes. Fury and hurt warred within her, but she refused to cry. She needed to get out. Her parents had redecorated the room after she moved out (honestly Rose, there’s just too much pink for one sane person to handle). And while the room was nice and soothing in its own way, it wasn’t a place of comfort right now. It reminded her too much of her mother. 

Striding to the closet she flung through outfits that she had left behind. Stashed away in the very back was what she was looking for. It was a simple black track suit, beaten and worn with years of use. It’s what she had worn every time her and her mum had had a particularly nasty row. She would throw it on then run until her lungs and muscles screamed at her to stop. Then she would push harder, almost to the point of collapse, just to feel a pain other than the one in her heart. 

She slipped in to the familiar clothing, tossing her other outfit to the floor. She fashioned her hair into a low and loose messy bun. Pulling up the hood and grabbing her iPod, she exited the room and slipped out of the house, her pink trainers being the only splash of color to her ensemble. As her feet thumped against the grass and the dirt, she let the loud music and familiar rhythm chase away the tears falling down her cheeks.

This time John was a little more at ease walking down the dock, headed back towards the Tyler house. He shook his head. House, how laughable. Pete and Donna were chatting ahead of him.

“Well, I’ve never seen Jack quite that…” Pete paused, searching for the right word.

“Dashing? Handsome? Wonderful?” Donna supplied with a dreamy sigh.

Pete laughed. “I was going to say out there.” The small group was almost to shore when a figure clad all in black, hood pulled low on their face, ran past. John followed the runner with his eyes, there was something familiar about her. His gaze focused on the pink trainers. Rose. She seemed completely oblivious to the rest of the world. What on earth was she doing? 

“Oh no,” Pete muttered. “Rose! Rose, sweetheart, everything alright?” Despite Pete’s shouting, Rose didn’t slow down. She kept running as if she hadn’t heard a single word. Pete, Donna, and John stood on the dock, right where it met the grass.

“What’s going on? Is she ok?” John asked, genuine concern in his voice. He had thought her running attire a little strange, she normally wasn’t one to dress all in black and hide her face from the world. Pete and Donna’s stiff posture told him that there was indeed something wrong.

Donna sighed loudly, gently shaking her head. “Something happened. Best to just leave her alone. Come on, dear. Help an old lady inside.” Not waiting for an argument, Donna slipped her arm through John’s, leading the way through the yard.

Donna quietly excused herself once they were inside. Pete marched purposely through the house, following the sounds of the telly. Since it was the way John had to go to get upstairs, he trailed wordlessly. Passing through the living room, they found Jackie sitting on a sofa, somehow watching Eastenders. How was she getting that all the way out here in nowhere Alaska?

Pete snatched up the remote, turning off the telly before planting himself in front of where Jackie was seated.

“What was that for? I was watching that,” Jackie protested, gesturing at the now black screen. John stood awkwardly off to the side. Not sure if he should say something or try and slip away unnoticed.

“What happened, Jacks? Why is our daughter out there running as if her life depended on it?” Pete’s tone was weary, as if they had this discussion on a regular basis. John assumed they did, or used to at least.

“How should I know? Maybe she’s practicing for a marathon? Or thinks she can run all the way back to London.” Jackie snorted, clearly agitated now.

John quickly determined he wanted no part of this. Not out in the open at any rate, where Jackie could take shots at him. Or even jump up for a slap. He shuddered then cleared his throat. “I am so tired.” He faked a yawn as both people turned in his direction. “I think I’m going to go up and shower. Maybe if I scrub hard enough, I can make my body forget the experience.” He gave them both a small smile, trying to lighten the mood.

It was their turn for fake smiles that didn’t reach their eyes.

Pete nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

John started to leave, but something made him hesitate. Swallwing, he mumbled, “Thank you for today. Although the last bit was scarring, I had a great time.” With another small nod from Pete, John turned and walked around the corner. However, he didn’t venture straight toward the stairs. He hovered silently, just out of sight. Hoping to figure out what was wrong with Rose.

“What did you do?” Pete asked Jackie, a touch of frustration in his voice.

“Me? I didn’t do anything? We had a cuppa and a nice little mother-daughter chat. That’s all.” Pete fixed Jackie with a disbelieving stare. “Oh, alright. Her future might have played a part in our little chat.” 

John heard Pete groan. “Why, sweetheart? I told you not to worry about it.”

“I know what you told me,” Jackie snapped. “ You’re too easy on her. She just needs-“

“Jacks, just stop. She’s our daughter. She only comes home once every three years, because of you. Now I told myself I wasn’t going to get in the middle of this. But this has got to stop. You are going to start being supportive of her decision to marry John, and of her job.” 

John wished he could see Jackie’s face right now. Her reaction to Pete’s outburst was probably priceless, and something he imagined didn’t happen often. An orange blur bounded into view from the other end of the hall. John’s nose wrinkled in disgust as Isolus slunk towards him. The kitten began trying to weave its way around his legs, purring. John danced out of reach, shushing the kitten in the process.

Pete drew in a deep breath. “If you’re not careful, you’re gonna push her away permanently. Then you and I are going to end up in this big house, alone. If we get grandchildren, we are never going to see them if you keep this up.”

At the mention of grandchildren (and the act that would imply doing) and Isolus still trying to rub against his leg, John bounded up the stairs, straight for the shower. Probably a cold one.

He didn’t really need to shower. After all, he had showered earlier in the morning. But he told Pete and Jackie that’s what he was doing, so he might as well rinse off the violation of the afternoon’s events. John had been so focused on getting under the cold water quickly that he hadn’t thought ahead, to the after the shower part. The part where you need a towel. And clothes.

Rose entered the room, Isolus close on her heels. With her head phones still in, music blaring, she crossed the room to the closet. She grabbed a towel then headed for the outdoor patio. The air was starting to get chilly and it felt good on her face. Her hood had fallen back as she had bounced up the stairs, golden hair now wild and out of place. She had run off most of her anger, and was left feeling mostly numb. She looked out across the water, suddenly desperate to feel something. She began peeling off layers, exposing her skin to the biting breeze. She shivered in the cold, but welcomed the feel of it contrasting with the heat provided by the setting sun. 

John poked his head out of the shower. Towel…he had forgotten a towel. Surely, they had some just lying about. Swiveling his head back and forth, there were none he could see in the immediate vicinity. Brilliant. Holding a breath, he carefully stepped all the way out of the shower. The cold air rolled over him, causing him to shake. He did another once over, this time checking in cabinets as well, and still no luck. His hair was dripping in his face, and every time a drop off water rolled down his back the resulting air chill sent a shiver down his spine. 

He would have to walk out into the bedroom. Flicking his eyes around in a last ditch attempt to find anything, he once again came up short. Not even a washcloth. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered to himself. “What kind of people don’t keep towels in their bathrooms.”

Covering his important bits with one hand, he cracked open the door to the bedroom. Slowly he inched forward, making sure no one was around. He flung the door open, intending to dash to the closet to grab the first towel his hands could find. He froze. The bloody cat was right in his path. The movement of the door attracted its attention.

Isolus rolled over, purring and stretching out towards John. Maybe he could just tip toe around him? As soon as he opened the door all the way, Isolus jumped up and bounded toward the door.

John kicked a foot out, trying to deflect the cat’s attention. “You have got to be kidding. I’m clean! Can I-can I just get a towel?” He had tried to bypass the mass of fur several times, but to no avail. Isolus darted and weaved with superb reflexes, trapping John with the door still wide open and one hand shielding his crotch. Groaning, John backed up and sat on the edge of the giant tub he hadn’t used. “Look, I’m sorry ok? I’m sorry for trying to feed you to the ruddy bird.” Isolus tilted his head to one side, staring at him with wide eyes. 

“Just go away,” John pleaded. Isolus merely stretched his front paws out along the floor, tail and rear rising up into the air. “Please, please, please. Go away. Oh!” John had an idea. He didn’t really want to throw anything thing at the creature. As much as he despised cats, he wasn’t cruel. But he remembered seeing Rose’s blow dryer while rifling through the cabinets for a towel. He jumped off the tub and over to the right cabinet. Untangling the cord, he plugged the object into an outlet nearest the door, flicking the switch on.

John swung back around the door, holding the hair dryer out like a gun. He aimed it directly at Isolus and chuckled. “How do you like this? Hmm?” Isolus meowed and batted at the warm air. “You like that you little hairball? That’s what I’m talking about. Take it.” Isolus flopped onto his stomach, letting the air ruffle the fur on his belly. He purred loudly. John was stunned. “You actually do like that?”

Frustrated, John shut off the hair dryer and set it on the counter. Bringing his gaze back to the kitten, he noticed the brown and blue bath rug. Please let this idea work. He crouched down at the end of the rug nearest the bath tub. “Here kitty, kitty. Come here.” His tone was sing-songy and he crooked his finger, beckoning Isolus forward. Isolus rolled over and watched his hand intently, but made no move forward.

John tried again, this time tapping his fingers across the rug as he swept his hand back and forth. “Here kitty, kitty.” Isolus began to creep forward. “That’s it. That’s a good boy. Get on the carpet, that’s it.” John watched closely and caught the tell-tale signs of a pounce. He snatched his hand back at the last minute, grabbing the rug with both hands now and swinging it around. Isolus dug his claws into the fabric, keeping a purchase on the twisting surface. Successfully switching their positions, John shot up and scrambled out the door, slamming it shut behind him. He stumbled backwards. Trying to regain his balance, he spun around.

He collided into a solid object and was temporarily disoriented. Blonde locks dancing at the edge of his vision told him that it was Rose. Then he began to register other things. Things like the warm breath on his head the same instant his own breath was knocked from his lungs. Things like her breasts beneath his cheek and the fact that all he could feel was skin. She was completely naked.

They both fully realized what had happened at the same moment. But it was too late. His momentum and awkward angle of attack was carrying them to floor. Gasping for air, trying not to scream, arms flailed wildly in the air around each other, desperate not to touch more than they already were. 

Rose landed on her back with a soft thud against the carpet, John sprawled out on top of her. She could feel the hard angles of John’s body pressed all along her soft curves. Somehow he had collided with her at the right position so that after tumbling to the ground, his face was practically buried in her breasts. She could feel the air from his rapid breathing ghosting over her chest. And oh god. Oh, oh, oh. She could feel _all_ of him. 

John’s head snapped up, nose grazing her chest. His eyes were wide and a flush crept over his face as he felt his body reacting to pinning her naked form to the ground. He took in her equally shocked expression, there was no way should couldn’t feel it. He squeaked the first thing that came to his mind. “Why are you naked?”

“Oh god. Why are you wet?” Rose shrieked in reply. She wasn’t going to lie, the feel of his body against hers felt amazing. She knew he was thinking along similar lines, if the evidence pressing into her thigh was anything to go by. Needing to put distance between them she instinctively pushed up on her elbows, effectively trapping John’s face between her breasts. Shit. He inhaled sharply then rolled off of her, but not before his lips ghosted across her skin from her unexpected movement.

John gulped and scrambled along the floor towards the bed. “Don’t look at me.”

“I don’t understand. _Why_ are you wet?” Rose shrieked again as she searched for her dropped towel.

John’s feet slipped on the wood floor as he left the carpeted area that had broken their fall. He tumbled to the floor again, rolling onto his back to catch his breath.

Rose spotted her towel slightly behind her and turned around. She caught sight of John sprawled out on the floor, one hand resting on his abdomen. She couldn’t help but drink him in. Long, lean limbs disguised his subtle, but distinct muscles. He was gorgeous. He raised his head from the floor. “You’re showing everything. Cover it up, cover it up!” she screeched, not wanting him to catch her staring.

John bolted upright, quickly memorizing Rose’s body as she stood there yelling at him. She must have noticed his eyes raking over her form, because she frantically scooped up her towel and wrapped it tightly around her. He scurried to the bed, grabbing the first blanket he could reach. With horror he recognized the blue and green patterned quilt. “Oh god. Not the baby maker!” He chucked it behind him and grabbed another, loosely wrapping it around his waist. He started to stand, then decided against it. The bed would be a better shield for his betraying body. “Explain yourself!” he growled.

“Explain myself?” Rose was flabbergasted. She ripped the remaining head phone from her ear, letting the whole thing drop to the floor.

“Yes! Explain yourself!” John was breathing hard, trying to regain normal blood flow in his body.

Rose pointed to the glass doors, still gripping the towel tight with her other hand. “I was outside!”

He flicked his gaze outside briefly, not wanting to miss the opportunity to continue to stare at Rose. “Oh, really? And you didn’t hear me?”

“I was listening to…you know what, never mind.” Rose huffed. “What are you even doing home? And then you just jump me out of nowhere? What was that?” She crossed her arms, glaring at him.

“I-I didn’t mean to jump you,” John spluttered. “Your bloody cat was attacking me, and I had to run. And I ran into you!” He was gesturing frantically, eyes bouncing this way and that, trying not to linger on her too long.

Rose looked him in bewilderment. “What is it with you and that cat?”

“Just, you know…just. Oh, just go.” John couldn’t form a coherent thought, much less a coherent sentence. His body was buzzing with hormones and adrenaline. He pointed to the en suite door and quietly repeated himself. “Go.”

Rose threw a hand up in the air. “Fine.”

“Go take a shower, you stink.”

“Fine.” Rose spun on her heel. “Nice tattoo by the way.” She headed to the en suite door, not caring to hear his answer.

“What?!” John squeaked. His hand shot up to the left side of his chest. What an idiot. Of course she would have seen it.

Rose opened the door he had slammed shut earlier. Isolus dashed out of the en suite between Rose’s legs.

“See, see! Exactly! You see that!” John shouted, pointing at the retreating flash of orange.

Rose stepped away from the door, one hand held to her throat in mock terror. “Oh…barely made it out with my life there. Did you see the size of the teeth on that thing? I didn’t…” Rolling her eyes, Rose entered the en suite then banged the door shut.

A mixture of a groan and a growl escaped John’s throat as he flung his face down on the bed. Hopefully Rose would take her time. Otherwise he was going to need another shower, a very cold shower.

By the time Rose came out, fully showered and dressed for bed, John had set out the blankets he would need to sleep on, pulled on his own pajamas, and started a fire in the fireplace he somehow missed the day before. How did one miss something like that? John sighed and rose off of the sofa where he had been resting. Wordlessly, they slipped under the covers of their predetermined sleeping arrangements.

Rose fidgeted on the bed. Part of her wanted to just shut her eyes and pretend the earlier incident never happened. She couldn’t seem to shake the mental images that continued to replay in her mind. The tension between the two of them now was thick enough to cut with a knife. Maybe they just needed to clear the air. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever his reaction would be. “So…so naked.”

John’s eyes widened and he felt the now all too familiar rise of color in his cheeks. He was thankful she couldn’t see him. He coughed to make sure his voice wouldn’t come out too high pitched. “Can we, uh, not talk about that please?”

Rose bit her lip, so much for that approach. “Fine. I was just saying.” She closed her eyes, ready to force herself into slumber.

Shaking his head, John inwardly kicked himself. He knew she was just trying to make it less awkward. But talking about what his mind already was unwillingly focused on was not going to help. He wanted to talk to her, let her know he wasn’t trying to brush her off. “So, what’s the deal with you and your mother?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. That question isn’t in the binder,” Rose shot back. He didn’t want to talk about the nude incident, well, she didn’t want to talk about her mother. 

“Oh? Well, I thought you were the one that said we needed to learn all this stuff about each other.” John tried to keep his tone light, even though he was genuinely concerned.

“Not about that I didn’t.” Rose’s voice was still harsh.

“But if the guy asks us-“ John tried again.

“Not about that, John. Good night.” Her tone was softer this time, but still told him the discussion was over. Rose shook her head, fighting back tears as the emotions from the fight with her mum came back and hit her full force.

John exhaled roughly. He hadn’t gotten into his successful position by being a quitter. He would try one more time. “I like the Psychic Network,” he whispered.

“What?” Rose asked. She had heard exactly what he said, but she didn’t understand why he was saying it.

John continued on without acknowledging her interruption, afraid that if he stopped now, he wouldn’t finish. “Not in the ‘ha-ha, isn’t that funny, he likes that trash’ kind of way. I actually quite enjoy it. I still think a lot of it is rubbish mind you, but the potential of the whole premise is amazing. Umm, I took ballroom dance classes in the sixth grade. My favorite musician is Glenn Miller. I think oversized jumpers are sexy.”

Rose lay still and hardly dared to breathe. Afraid to do much more than smile, lest a noise scare him into silence. 

“I don’t like flowers in the house, or in the office for that matter, because they remind me of funerals. Never played a video game. I read a different Charles Dickens book every Christmas, he’s my favorite author.” John cleared his throat nervously. “I, er, haven’t slept with a woman in over a year and a half.” Blimey, he was getting personal. No point in stopping now. “I went into the bathroom and punched a wall after Reinette called me a monster and a bloody bastard. And the, uh, wolf tattoo. I got it when I was 16 after my parents died. It was my mother’s favorite animal.” He chuckled softly. “Stupid. But, er, I’m sure there are many other things. That’s all I can come up with right now.” John closed his eyes and waited for Rose’s reaction. He could just barely make out the sound of her breathing up on the bed.

Rose’s smile had slowly vanished as his confessions became deeper and more personal. She knew it had taken a lot for him to even partially bare himself like that. She was too shocked that he had done it in the first place to come up with a response. It was so much information. He almost seemed like a normal person.

“You still there?” John inquired gently. She hadn’t said a word. He fought the urge to sit up and look at her.

“I’m here,” Rose replied just as quietly. “Just processing.” They were both silent for the next few seconds. “You really haven’t slept with anyone in 18 months?”

“Oh, my god. Out of all of that, that’s all you got?” John tried not to sound too embarrassed.

“That’s a long time,” Rose replied frankly, hint of teasing in her tone.

“Yeah, well, I’ve been a little busy.” John sniffed indignantly. 

“Yeah…” Rose trailed off, trying to decide what topic to breach next. “Who’s, uh, Glenn Miller? Is that what you said?”

“Yes. Not surprised you haven’t heard of him. He was popular back in the forties, largely in America.”

“Yeah? Try me, what’s one of his songs?” Rose smiled to herself, thankful he couldn’t see her face.

“One of my favorites, and one of his more popular songs, is ‘In the Mood’.”

“Hmm, what’s it sound like?”

“Oh, umm…ok.” John began humming, softly at first. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. After humming a few bars, he sang a couple of lines then became aware of Rose trying to stifle her giggles. “What?” John’s voice was nervous. He was way out of his comfort zone, and she was laughing at him. Brillant.

“Nothing.” He could still hear the smile in her voice.

“What?” He asked again, beginning to get more irritated.

Rose giggled unabashedly. “I know who he is. I just wanted to hear you sing.” She continued to laugh, and this time John laughed with her. Rose calmed down enough to speak. “You seem to have a lovely voice.”

“Thanks,” John answered uneasily. 

“And I don’t think your tattoo is stupid. It’s very sweet. Don’t let this go to your head,” Rose paused, taking in a deep breath, “but you are quite handsome.” She bit the inside of her cheek, wondering if she went too far.

John cleared his throat. “Thank you.” A semi-comfortable silence descended on the pair.

“Good night,” Rose whispered, assuming their conversation was now over.

“Good night.” John was silent for a full minute before speaking again. “Rose?”

“Hmm?” 

“Don’t take this the wrong way. Please”

“Ok.” Rose shifted nervously on the bed, picking at her blanket.

John wasn’t sure he should say it, but he already had her attention. It was only fair. “You are a very…very beautiful woman.” 

Rose couldn’t help the large smile that covered her face. Her emotions were running wild. She didn’t trust herself to speak. Instead she started singing. “ _In the mood for all his kissin’. In the mood his crazy lovin’_.”

John chuckled and joined in. Both of them convulsed in laughter when they began singing different verses. Another silence stretched between them, this one comfortable and welcomed. They drifted off to sleep to the crackling fire, contented smiles on both their faces.


	7. Agreements and Mother Nature

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to bittie752. I completely reworked one of the scenes, because I couldn't see it working it out the way I thought it should with the characters I'm using. Hope you still enjoy it!

Rose flopped over in the bed, one arm connecting with a night stand. She bolted upright, cradling her wrist. Shit. What time was it? Vision blurred from a combination of sleep and tangled blonde locks; she reached for the clock on the night stand. Her hand fell on the remote for the blinds. With a beep they crept open, letting sunlight slowly spill into the room. “No, no, no. Shhhhh.” She fumbled with the remote, knocking the clock to the floor in the process. Her fingers blindly found the right button and the curtains rustled to a stop. 

Heaving a sigh, she tossed the remote to the side then slunk to the end of the bed, peering over the edge. John was passed out on the floor; head turned away from her, sunlight highlighting subtle red hues in his soft brown hair. One hand rested on his chest, the other was flung out to his side. Rose smiled to herself, scooting back up the bed.

Picking up the remote, she moved to place it back on the table. Catching sight of her reflection in a small mirror on the table she recoiled, tossing the remote to the end of the bed. “Oh god.” She frantically began trying to smooth her bed mussed hair into a more presentable arrangement. She grabbed her tube of lip gloss off the other table, applying a few coats before tossing it aside in order to dig the sleep out of her eyes. Attempting to bring a little color into her face, she pinched her cheeks before quietly slapping them. Glancing down to make sure John was still asleep, she twisted her hair over her shoulder. She lowered herself slowly to the pillows, trying to find a graceful yet comfortable position.

There was a loud pounding at the door, followed by Jackie’s voice. “Room service! Breakfast for the happy couple!”

Rose shot up from the mattress. “John.” Rose hissed. There was no movement from him. “John!” One of his hands twitched as he released a muffled groan.

Rose chucked a pillow at his head. He jerked awake, turning to look at her, eyes blinking wildly. He looked at her in sleepy confusion, slight crease in his brow.

“My mum is at the door. Get up!” Rose whispered harshly. John continued to stare at her. “My mum is at the door!”

“Oh god,” John grumbled. Slowly, he rolled over. He scrambled out from under the blankets and wobbled over to the bed, scooping everything up off the floor.

“Hang on!” Rose shouted towards the door.

John tossed the pillow and blankets at Rose before sliding under the covers. Rose grunted and tried to unbury herself. Her hands brushed across a familiar blue and green quilt. “Oh god, not the baby blanket. Get it off, get it off!” She shoved it aside, flicking it to the floor. “Ok. Alright,” she breathed in relief. Rose leaned back, trying to help John untangle the blankets so they could both fit beneath.

John, still foggy from sleep, caught a close glimpse of her face. “Hey, hang on.”

“What?” Rose snapped, shifting under the duvet.

“Are you wearing makeup?” John had stopped moving and propped himself on one elbow, watching her reaction.

She froze for an instant. “What? No. Of course not,” she hissed at him. She twisted slightly onto her side.

John didn’t quite believe her, but another insistent knock on the door prevented him from pressing the issue. A new issue popped to the front of his mind. Sharing a bed. He gulped, “Umm, what do we do?”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Just spoon me you git.” She rolled completely on her side, waiting tensely for him to situate himself around her. She felt one arm slide underneath her shoulders and the heat of his body as he glided closer. His knees brushed the back of her calves and she fought to keep her breathing normal, trying to ignore the increase in her heart rate. He pressed against her. Immediately she jumped away, eyes wide. “What is that?” Rose shrieked, still keeping her voice low. She flopped on her back so she could look at John.

John tugged on his ear, not looking at her. Closing his eye, he exhaled gruffly. When he opened his eyes to look at her, he was fighting a smile. “Well. It _is_ morning,” he said pointedly, making a sweeping gesture with his hand.

Rose’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean it’s ‘morning’? Of course it is.”

John rolled his eyes, before tilting his head to the side. He stared at her, waiting for it to sink in.

He could pinpoint the exact moment she understood his meaning. Her brow smoothed and her face flushed the slightest bit pink. “Seriously?” she muttered.

“Rose, sweetheart? You alright?” Jackie’s voice called from the other side of the door.

“Yeah! One second! Just, hold on!” Rose nervously yelled back. Great, that’s all she needed. “I can’t believe this,” she mumbled under her breath. Wordlessly, she scooted back towards John.

They fumbled in silence with the blankets. John sat so he was leaning against the headboard, pillows cushioning him and Rose tucked into the crook of his arm. He wasn’t sure where to lay his arm. Resting it on her shoulder would leave it hanging in the air, obviously out of place. He had a feeling if he curled it around her, she wouldn’t appreciate it. Since that would effectively be resting it atop her chest. Still, he was tempted. Arms jumbling, he finally settled his elbow on her shoulder. He set his hand on her head, fingers tangling slightly in her hair. Rose reached up and placed her hand on his arm, gripping it gently.

“Come in!” Rose spoke just loud enough to be heard, feigning drowsiness. John rested his cheek against her head, enjoying the heat that radiated from her body into his. Rose tried to keep her breathing low and even.

The door swung open, revealing Jackie carrying a wooden tray laden with food and drinks.

John’s eyes lit up. “Cinnamon rolls! Brilliant!”

“You really shouldn’t have, mum.” Rose wasn’t as easily swayed by the food, this situation still screamed awkward.

“Nonsense. He’s family now after all. Would be rude of me not to.” Jackie smiled sweetly, setting the tray down onto the coffee table. John noticed her raise an eyebrow at its new location. Thankfully she didn’t ask. She picked the remote for the curtains up off the corner of the bed, pushing the button to open them fully. Sunlight bounced around the room, causing both Rose and John to squint until their eyes adjusted.

“Got room for one more?” Pete’s voice drifted through the now open doorway before his face appeared.

Rose groaned, unconsciously pressing closer against John as she titled her head back in frustration. “Could we not do the family thing now, please? We just woke up.” John yawned and stretched his free arm, helping emphasize her point.

Pete chuckled then glanced at Jackie. “Your mother and I have come up with a proposition. We think you two should get married here, tomorrow.” 

“Tomorrow?” Rose echoed quietly.

“What? Oh no, no, no. We…umm…” John trailed off, not sure how to argue his way out.

Pete gently elbowed Jackie.

Shooting him a heated look over her shoulder, Jackie stepped forward. “I think’s a terrific idea. You’re getting married anyway. Why not here? With your family? Your gran would love to be a part of it, sweetheart.” Jackie’s voice sounded mostly sincere, but there was something in her eyes that had John unsettled. He wondered what exactly had been said between her and Pete before deciding on this course of action.

Rose shook her head as best she could with John’s hand partially buried in her hair. “No.” Her tone was flat, she couldn’t believe this. She had always wanted her family to be present at her wedding. But she had also always wanted to marry someone she was in love with. The marriage between her and John, she wanted her family far, far away from. 

John thought he found an out. “We couldn’t do that to Donna. It’s her big day! We don’t want to ruin it by-“

“I’ve had 89 birthday parties. What am I going to do with another one?” Donna cut him off, striding into the room. She paused at the foot of the bed.

“Gran…” Rose started, not entirely sure what to say.

Donna ignored her, bringing clasped hands to her mouth for a moment before speaking again. “It would be a dream come true, to see my only grandchild’s wedding. A dream come true!” There were tears beginning to form in her eyes.

Bloody hell, John thought. There was no way out of this now. However, he was going to leave the final say to Rose. It was her family after all. After fidgeting throughout the conversation, Rose had rested the elbow of her free arm mostly on his thigh, hand gripping the sheets tightly to her chest. He slowly positioned his hand (the one not tangled in her hair) on her arm, squeezing in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture. She relaxed a little against him and she slowly nodded her head.

“So you’ll do it then?” Donna pleaded.

Rose made a noncommittal noise in her throat.

“Before I’m dead?” Donna’s whole demeanor had changed. She went from sappy and sentimental to sarcastic and fiery.

“Yes!” Rose blurted, her and John nodding their heads frantically in unison. 

“Brilliant!” Donna yelped, grabbing Jackie’s arm. Jackie smiled in return, this time looking as if she were genuinely pleased. Rose and John gripped each other tighter without noticing.

“You two don’t worry about a thing. We’ll take care of it,” Jackie stated.

“Oh, you can get married in the barn! I hear it’s a wonderful tradition. It can be one you start for your own family.” Donna was vibrating with excited energy. John was sure that if she had been younger, she would have been all over the room and talking wildly with her hands.

“Wow. Um…wow. I’ve always wanted to get married in a-a barn.” John tried to keep the revulsion out of his voice. Donna really was a nutter. Who in their right mind would want to get married in a barn? He was vaguely aware of Rose mumbling something along the same lines.

Donna’s whole face lit up. “It’s a sign! A sign that you were meant to be together! Oh, we must give thanks.” She clasped her hands, raising them and her eyes towards the ceiling. 

“Well, I’m going to start getting things ready. You two enjoy your breakfast.” Jackie smiled warmly at them then left the room.

Donna was still rambling about giving thanks. John was beginning to think she would never stop. “I really should leave you two alone. So much to do.” Donna’s voice was full of distracted energy. She headed for the door, but spun back around. “We’re just so flippin’ excited!”

John tried to smile as wide as possible. He didn’t dare move otherwise. He worried that if he let go of Rose, he would slap himself silly in an attempt to wake himself from what was surely a dream. No, not a dream. A nightmare. Rose released him, and clapped quietly with her hands.

“I know you’re excited too!” Donna squealed. 

Laughing quietly, Pete came up behind her and gently grabbed her arms. “Alright, let’s go.”

Still grinning, Rose muttered under her breath, “Go. Please just go.”

“Give thanks, I tell you!” Donna cried over her shoulder.

“Goooo.” Rose ground out through her still smiling teeth. Giving them an apologetic look, Pete pushed Donna out the door, following behind her.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Rose’s body loosened, but she was far from relaxed. She scrubbed her hands roughly down her face. 

John sat silently, waiting for her reaction. Inside he was screaming. He had expected the two of them to get married back in London, nice and quiet. Just enough to make it legal. He had never expected a full on ceremony. At least his family wasn’t the one involved.

Rose slid down, causing John to quickly detangle his fingers from her hair. Her head rested on John’s rib cage and she pulled the duvet up over her face. “Oh my god.” Her tone was filled with dread and disbelief. 

The image of her sliding further under the covers combined with the statement caused images of her saying those words, with a very different tone, to flash unbidden in John’s mind. He shook himself. Another cold shower would be in order this morning. “Rose?” he whispered after clearing his throat.

She flung the covers off and sat up, turning so that she could look at him while she talked, his side now cold from the loss of contact, except where her knee pressed into his thigh. “When my parents find out this whole thing is a sham, they’re going to be crushed. And my dad has been so supportive of _everything_. Oh, no. My gran is probably going to die.” Rose was fisting the sheets and John could see her eyes shining with tears. Tears she was probably trying very hard not to shed.

“Your dad isn’t going to find out,” John told her firmly. He wasn’t sure why, probably something to do with those feelings he had tried to lock away, but seeing her upset like this was painfully twisting his heart.

Her eyes popped wide, as if she hadn’t heard him. “And my mum! What the bloody hell was that about? She has two rows with me, about how much she disapproves of my life actually, and then…then she wants help plan the wedding? Where did that come from?” She had gotten more animated as she talked, releasing the sheets to wave her hands in the air. Now that her outburst was over, they fell limply to her lap.

“Your dad probably pushed her into it. Well, your dad and Donna. That woman may be 90, but she still knows what she wants and how to get it.” John caught himself beginning to ramble as he noticed Rose’s shoulders slump lower. Right, back on track. “It’s fine. They’re not going to find out.”

His words had the opposite effect of what he was hoping. Rose leaned forward, head in her hands, blonde hair hiding her face. Her voice was muffled by her palms, but he could still hear the sad desperation in it. “Oh, God. John.”

“Rose, relax. They’re not going to find out ok?” John tried to reassure her again. She didn’t answer, just rocked back and forth, taking deep breathes. She was so close, and he couldn’t help himself. He gently grabbed her arms from behind her so he could turn her upper body away from him completely. Loosening his grip he began running his hands up and down her arms, rubbing small circles when he reached her shoulders. He repeated the process, muttering ‘it’ll be oks’, until she leaned back into his touch.

Rose’s emotions had run rampant after it was somehow decided that her and John would get married the very next day. With all her family present. She felt like it was a disaster waiting to happen. She didn’t know if she wanted to scream from frustration or cry from despair. To his credit, John had handled the whole thing rather well. The outburst she had expected never came. And the patterns his hands were now tracing on her skin were hypnotizing. She felt the stress melt away. She was still worried and truth be told, more than a little freaked out. But she no longer felt as if she were going to drown in the helplessness of it all.

“It’s not like we’re going to be married forever. We’ll be happily divorced before you know it.” John’s tone was light, but she detected a strong undercurrent of some hidden emotion she couldn’t quite place. “It’ll be fine. Everything will be just fine,” he murmured near her ear. 

His hands slowed down and she sensed his body shift closer to hers. Stilling his hands, one lightly gripping each arm, he rested his chin on her shoulder. Rose tilted her head against his, closing her eyes and focusing on his thumbs still brushing her arms.

“You ok?” John asked her softly, warm breath ghosting across her skin.

“Yeah.” Rose replied just as quiet, not wanting to break the moment just yet. She turned her head to find deep chocolate eyes staring at her. His face was unbelievably near hers. Somehow she hadn’t put the pieces together of just how close he had gotten. His eyes dropped to her lips. She had the wild urge to kiss him and plunge her hands into his hair. Her eyes drifted to his mouth. It would be so easy…NO.

It was almost as if her mental scream had been vocalized. One moment they were watching each other dreamily, the next they had sprung apart, like magnets of similar charge. 

“Coffee?” John squeaked, throwing the duvet aside and hopping off the bed.

“Um, yeah,” Rose replied, sounding more affected by what had almost just happened than she wanted to. “Yes,” she said more firmly.

He walked over to the tray, pausing to give her a manic grin. “Would you like a chocolate chip latte?”

“Oh, ha, ha.” Rose rolled her eyes, but her laugh and smile were genuine.

John felt his heart stutter. He busied himself preparing their drinks, carefully watching his hands and studiously avoiding looking at Rose.

She tilted her head to the side, observing his precise movements. Idly, she twisted the engagement ring around her finger. There had been a subtle shift between them, and she wasn’t sure why or when it happened. She couldn’t even label what it was. Then again, maybe he didn’t return the feelings she was starting to have. Maybe he was just determined to make the most of the situation. There was no point bickering all the time if they were stuck with each other, even if it was just for the time being. 

“You’re right. We’ll get a quickie divorce and be fine.” She spoke with more determination than she felt, continuing to fiddle with the ring.

“Absolutely,” John said absentmindedly, picking up only one mug and the plate of cinnamon rolls.

“I’ll talk to my dad, make sure we will have all the right paperwork for your visa though. He’ll be able to pull strings if we need something quickly. It’s going to be fine. Everything is going to be brilliant.” Rose heaved a huge sigh, trying to reign in her wandering thoughts.

“Mmm,” John hummed, adjusting his grip before straightening up and approaching the bed. “Looks like this bloke better learn to spoil his wife. Got to keep you happy. Wouldn’t want you running off with another man.” He was teasing and grinning, so Rose was surprised when she saw dark storm clouds brewing in his eyes. He moved across the bed on his knees, handing Rose the mug first.

Rose chuckled. “I haven’t left you yet, John.” She set her mug on the nearest bedside table then reached for the plate without looking. Her fingers gripped it but she met resistant as she tried to pull it away. “Let go, I got it.” She looked up to find him staring at her, face carefully neutral. “Are you ok?” Rose asked gently.

“What?” John shook his head. “Yes, yes. Fine. I’m always fine.” He watched her, taking in the sight. Food in her lap, hair still slightly mussed from sleep. That thin cotton vest was a poor excuse for a shirt. Oh, god. “Umm, I’m going to go.”

Rose blinked, obviously not expecting that answer. “Where?”

“I just kind of feel like going outside.” He slunk backwards off the bed.

“Umm, John? That’s the loo.” Rose’s confusion was tinted with amusement.

“What? Oh, yeah. I know, I know.” He rubbed his neck nervously. “I’m just going to use the loo…and then go outside. All right?” John retreated to the en suite, closing the door. He knew he had probably made a fool of himself but he didn’t care. He needed space. Climbing into the shower, he wondered if he would be able to shower with hot water ever again. The images burned into his brain told him it wasn’t likely.

Rose leaned back, bumping her head on the headboard. “All right,” she mumbled to the now empty room.

Once John was showered and clothed, he exited their shared room with a hasty goodbye, not wanting to think about Rose now more than likely getting into the shower. He groaned and quickly made his way outside, red trainers thumping down the steps. He began to walk aimlessly, blue pinstriped suit sticking out against the green grass. He had no tie and had only donned a maroon Henley on underneath his jacket. Hands thrust into his trouser pockets, his mind began wandering over the events of the past few days. He was getting too close to Rose and he knew it. Problem was, he didn’t know how to stop it.

He tugged on his hair and slapped the back of his head. “Come on, John. Focus. Just focus,” he growled quietly to himself. “This is a business deal. _Business_. Everything is going to be fine.” He exhaled roughly, mind unwilling to let go of thoughts that had plagued him since their kiss. 

He remembered her run yesterday and decided to try it for himself. Looking around he realized he had taken some unknown path into the trees, hopefully still on Tyler property. It didn’t really matter right now, he just needed an escape. He broke out into a run, not bothering to work up to it. Leaves crunched under his feet. His thoughts drained away, leaving him to focus on the familiar ache in his muscles. He couldn’t remember the last time he had taken a run outdoors.

He was beginning to rethink running on some shoddy piece of equipment, when the path gradually narrowed. He had to duck several times to avoid getting taken out by a tree branch. Bloody nature, he thought to himself. Coming around a tight corner, the toe of his trainer caught on something hidden beneath the carpet of leaves. His body lurched forwards. He flapped his arms, attempting to regain balance. Twisting at the last moment to avoid crash landing on his face, his back hit the ground with a loud crunch. 

“I just wanted some air,” he panted dejectedly. He closed his eyes, remaining sprawled out in the leaves, not caring about his suit getting dirty. He listened to his surroundings. The chirp of birds overhead, the creaking of branches in the slight breeze that drifted through the trees. The drum beat in the distance. Drum beat? His eyes flew open as he slightly raised his head. Was that a flute?

“What is that? What could it possibly be now?” John grumbled as he stood, brushing himself off. He twisted on the spot, trying to pinpoint the source. “ _What_ is that?” Thinking he had located the direction in which the sound was coming from, he stalked towards it. The sound of a woman chanting incoherently reached his ears. 

He left the path, weaving through the trees, trying to stay as silent as possible. The sound drew nearer and nearer. He spotted a clearing and adjusted his position so he could see as much of it as possible while still keeping himself hidden.

A bonfire was in the middle of the clearing. Granted it was a little small for a bonfire. But it was too big for just a campfire. Did they even have a term for that? Rocks ringed the burning logs, smoking drifting towards the leaf veiled sky. Inching forward, he noticed a figure on the other side of the fire. The person was standing with their back to him, arms flung wide. Some sort of cloak, which really looked more like a blanket, draped down their shoulders to the forest floor. It was dark blue with a red fringe border, some sort of possessed looking red bird in the center. An object colored in the same blue and red adorned their head. 

The unknown person slowly drew their hands towards each other, stopping when they were about a foot apart. They waved their hands downward, in perfect sync, while continuing to chant. John crept forward, holding his breath as a stick cracked under his weight.

“Come to me, John of London.” The figure called out to him with booming authority. John gripped the tree he was hiding behind and considered high tailing it out of there.

“It is I, Grandma Donna.” The figure spun around. Sure enough, it was Donna’s beaming face tucked underneath the ridiculous headdress. John sagged in relief. He moved out from behind the tree, but didn’t step forward.

Donna observed him from a distance. “I see you are a curious one. Come here, spaceman. Come see how I give thanks to Mother Earth.” She beckoned him forward with sweeping gestures of her arms.

“You know…I’m actually not that curious. Usually I am. But this…” John tried to come up with a reason to leave. He had a strange feeling prickling at the base of his neck. Yet, he couldn’t just run out on Rose’s gran. That would be rude.

“Look around. Mother Earth has provided all of this, just as she brought you and Rose together to be joined.” She brought her hands together, lacing her fingers. John gulped. “We must give thanks. And ask that your loins be abundantly fertile. Come dance with me in celebration.”

John choked on air. Oh, you have got to be kidding me. He was trying to escape thoughts along those lines, and here she was throwing it back in his face. He wanted nothing to do with this. “Can I…can I just thank her from here?” 

Donna stepped forward, tossing something into the fire. “I insist!” The flames roared higher and there was a deafening pop.

“Ok, ok, ok.” John scurried forward, not wanting to anger the nutter playing with fire. “I’ll come over there. But I am _not_ dancing.”

“I could teach you,” Donna replied. Resuming her earlier chanting, she bobbed around the fire, flapping her arms like a bird in slow motion. “Follow and learn. Feel the rhythm of the drums.”

John didn’t move.

“Oi, you! You try!” Donna ordered.

John shook his head. “I told you, I’m not dancing.”

Donna stopped moving. They stared each other down for a full minute. Finally, Donna smiled wickedly and walked over to a bag on the ground, just far enough away from the fire and propped up against a stump. She pulled out a cup and several vials of ingredients John could not identify.

John shifted nervously. Now what? Was she going to set him on fire? He cleared his throat.

Donna glanced up from mixing things together. “Have it your way, sunshine. You don’t have to dance, but we must still give thanks. So you’ll be drinking this.”

John watched her pour something red into the cup she had pulled out. She added various powders and liquids to it before stirring it briefly. Taking the cup in both hands, she raised it into the air. She closed her eyes and chanted quietly. When she had finished, she approached John with the cup.

“Here, drink this and give thanks,” Donna’s eyes sparkled mischievously. 

He peered into the cup and fought down the urge to vomit. “Is-is that _blood_?” John stammered, hand half covering his mouth.

“You must drink it, dear,” Donna replied.

“If that’s blood, I’m not drinking it. You can forget it.”

“It’s either drink this or dance. You must give thanks!” Donna insisted. He didn’t see her throw anything, but the fire roared up at her words. John flinched. He didn’t know what was going on, but he knew didn’t want to catch fire.

“Fine. Fine, give it here.” John reached to take the cup from Donna. When he made to pull back, she kept her hands on it. He stared at her questioningly. “I said I would drink it.”

“Yes. But you must also ask for fertility,” Donna stated, no hint of humor in her voice or expression.

John’s jaw dropped. “Um…I must what?”

“The universe has given you a sign. You and Rose are meant to be. But you must ask Mother Earth to bless the both of you with fertile loins, so that you may have many children.” Donna’s tone was matter-of-fact, and John felt the heat rising in his face.

John wanted to run far, far away. He had heard that families got excited, sometimes overly so, about the possibility of (great) grandchildren. But this? This was border line harassment.

“I trust you don’t need an explanation of how that part works? But if you do, I can help.” This time Donna’s tone was teasing it, egging him on.

“NO! I mean, no…that won’t be necessary.” John didn’t know how she had planned on helping, but whatever it was, he never wanted to find out. Donna released the cup, nodding at him. “Right. Here goes.” He raised the cup but before he could press it to his lips, Donna was hollering at him.

“Oi! I told you, you must do it the right way!”

“Right, sorry. Umm…thanks and please?” John arched an eyebrow at her, hoping his very condensed version would be enough.

Donna shook her head then placed a hand on his chest. “You have to mean it. Say it from the heart. If you don’t, you will anger the gods.”

John didn’t believe in gods as such. But he did believe in Donna’s ability to light him on fire and make his life a living hell. Not out of spite of course, but because that was her way. He sighed then mumbled a string of words under his breath. He peeked open one eye, gauging Donna’s reaction.

She flung her arms wide and looked up to the sky. “To the universe, John!” 

He shook his head, he should have known better. “Ok, ok.” He drew in a deep breath, exhaling slowly, closing his eyes again. He didn’t want to watch her smug reaction as he gave in. Maybe he should have just gone with the dance. Too late now. He brought the cup halfway to his mouth, pausing to speak loudly. “Thank you, er, Mother Earth. And please…um, that is, could you please bless Rose and I with…” He swallowed hard before finishing. “Bless us with fertile loins.” Quickly, he downed the liquid in the cup. It was thick in texture, but surprisingly rather sweet. Not blood then. 

“Blimey, that was embarrassing. Good thing-“ He snapped his head around as a loud female giggle reached his ears. Rose.

Rose had wandered around the property, knowing that she would eventually find him. She was still partially hidden by a tree she had obviously been using to spy on them. She had thought about interrupting when she heard what her gran had told John he had to ask for. But it had been too good an opportunity to pass up.

John’s face and ears turned a brighter shade of pink. He didn’t know how long she had been standing there, but it had apparently been long enough. Trying to control her laughter, she walked towards him.

“So what was all that?” She arched an eyebrow at him.

“That-that was all her,” John stated defensively, pointing a finger at Donna. Donna merely smiled, coming to take the cup from his hand. “She told me I had to give thanks and, and ask for a favor. From the heart.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, trying very hard not to fidget too much and show just how embarrassed he was.

“From the heart hmm? Fertile loins, John? That’s what’s in your heart?” Rose teased him, flashing one of her tongue in teeth smiles.

“I’ll have you know, Rose Tyler,” he paused to waggle a finger at her and enjoy the way her name rolled off his tongue, “there are many things in my heart. That, however, is not one of them. If and when, I desire children, I don’t need to worry about my fertility. I’m quite manly, you know.” He sniffed and cocked his head to the side, self-assured look on his face.

Rose laughed even harder, thankful that it would cover up the way her body responded to him calling her by her full name. Her heart had stumbled before picking up double time and the unexpected desire for him to say it again, preferably in a scream, took her breath away. This was turning out to be the longest weekend of her life.

“Your phone arrived,” Rose finally gasped out, wiping away tears from laughing so hard. “I’m going into town to pick it up. Did you want to come?”

“Brilliant! Yes! I’d love to come.” John bounced over to her side, smile taking up his entire face. “Oh! Hold on.” His smile had vanished and he whipped back around to look at Donna. He wasn’t going to take any chances. “Is it...ok if I go?”

“Do whatever is in your heart,” Donna replied.

“Right. But you’re ok if go? We’re good?” John asked nervously.

“Yes, yes. Go.”

“Bye Gran!” Rose called out as she turned to walk away.

John hurried to catch up, hands once again in his trouser pockets.

Rose cast a side long glance at him, slow smile covering her face. “You’re completely mad. You know that, right?”

“Oi! Just shut it. We are never to speak of that incident ever, ever again.”

Rose snickered. “Fertile loins.”

John bumped her with his shoulder. “Please, just…don’t. Don’t do that.”

Rose giggled, but nodded her agreement. They walked the rest of the way to the dock, chatting and laughing. Donna watched them until they disappeared into the trees, smug knowing grin on her face.


	8. Water Rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to bitte752 for her continued help.

John and Rose made their way to the dock, enjoying each other’s company. When it was just the two of them, no family, no work, no outside pressure, they found they got along quite well. John had a knowledge of more than just books, business, and editing and his tendency to ramble only increased when he was excited about something, or nervous. Rose, while not as book knowledgeable, had an innate ability to read people and see things that John didn’t. They fit together like two pieces of a puzzle, though neither of them admitted it. It was easy to just talk and tease and not think about the reason why they were there in the first place.

Rose noticed John was much more at ease on the dock this time. And even though he gripped the seat with white knuckles once in the boat, he didn’t complain. She hoped the fact that she was the one steering the boat didn’t add to his anxiety.

Docked and now walking down the main street, they made their way to the Tyler General Store. John was so caught up in joking with Rose that he didn’t even mentally roll his eyes at yet another establishment owned by her father. 

Upon entering the store, the pair split up. John wandered around, interested to see what items were deemed important enough to be kept in stock in the tiny store. Rose walked up to the counter.

“Hey, Rose,” the gentleman behind the counter called. Something about his voice ticked the back of John’s mind, but he paid it no mind. Choosing to ponder the need for so many wellies on display, and why they had to be so dull and unappealing. 

Rose smiled at the man behind the counter in a return greeting. “You have the phone I ordered?”

“Yup. I’ll grab it for you in just a sec. How are you?” 

“I’m great, thanks. I’ll just browse while you get it.” Rose moseyed over to the food, debating on whether she should grab a snack or not.

John was still contemplating on how to make the rain shoes not quite so repulsive when he heard the man’s voice come from right next to him.

“Hi.”

John jumped and fixed his gaze on the bloke. It was bloody Jack, the waiter/exotic dancer. He worked at the general store too? John took a step back. “Um, hi.”

One corner of Jack’s lips quirked up. “Remember this?” He grabbed a nearby shelf and wiggled his hips down to the floor, other arm thrown out to the side. He was smiling while humming the song that had played the afternoon John desperately wanted to forget.

“Yes, yes,” John stammered, backing away slowly. “Wonderful.” John ducked around to the other aisle, trying to get away. 

Jack stayed in the other aisle. However, the displays were only waist high. He pranced down his aisle mirroring the direction John was headed. He winked and proceeded to swing his hips while moving, still humming. “Remember?”

Not letting Jack out of his sight, John almost ran into Rose as he strode down the aisle.

“Seems you made quite the impression on Jack.” Rose barely looked up from the crisps she was searching through as she teased him. With another wink, Jack spun on his heel to return to his position behind the counter.

John snorted. “I think the part where I burst into tears really brought us together.”

Rose pressed a hand to her mouth, trying to stifle her laughter. 

“Oh! Fun fact about John number 10,” John said, reaching an arm in front of Rose. “I like crisps, but would always prefer chips. Anything banana flavored is delicious, obviously. Umm, chocolate is good. Any kind of fizzy drink. Unless it’s diet. Oh! And beef jerky.”

Rose cocked an eyebrow at him and crossed her arms. “What are you, like thirteen?”

“Mmhmm,” John hummed absently, now engrossed in digging through the food.

Jack came back to where they were standing. “Here’s the phone, all charged up and ready to go.”

“Thanks,” Rose replied, catching the box as he tossed it to her.

“All your numbers are already programed.” Jack approached John, holding out the phone with a smirk on his face.

“Err…thanks.” John tried to take the phone from him. Jack snatched it back playfully. John tried again, same result. 

Jack finally let John grab ahold, but then refused to let go. John pulled hard, snatching the phone out the other man’s hand. Jack tried to follow through by touching John’s head. Ducking, he quickly headed for the exit.

Back out on the street, John powered on the new phone. He dialed his voicemail.

“Shit. I have 42 new messages. I need a computer. Is there a computer in this god forsaken town?” 

Rose rolled her eyes, linking an arm through his to lead the way without saying a word. John was thankful for the distraction of sifting through the voice messages.

Stepping through the doors of the tiny internet café, Rose pointed at the two computers by the window.

“Pick one, I’ll be right back.” She walked over to the girl behind the counter, talking to her about something John couldn’t make out.

John snorted and bit back the sarcastic comment he wanted to lob back over his shoulder. There were only two computers. One had a sign that said it was out of order. Well, that made his choice easy. He sat at the wooden chair to examine the computer. It was ancient. A huge desktop he was sure no one even made anymore.

“So, when it runs out, it gives you this little warning. Just add more dimes.” Rose deposited a handful of dimes into John’s open palm.

“You’re kidding?” John looked from Rose to the little slotted device he just noticed next to the monitor.

Rose smirked at him then glanced out the window. Mickey was walking by on the opposite side of the street, head down and hands in his coat pocket. He walked like that when something was bothering him. John wouldn’t need her for this, she’d only be a minute anyway.

“You’re not kidding me?”

“I’ll be outside.” Rose began walking towards the door.

John snagged the sleeve of her grey hoodie. “What if I need you?”

Rose looked into his earnest brown eyes. Smiling, she patted his hand still gripping her sleeve. “If you need me, just yell. You’ll be fine.” Gently she pried his fingers off her clothing. Resisting the urge to feel them grip her own, she dropped his hand and walked out the door.

Sighing, John turned back to the computer. “Ok. You can figure this out, you’re an intelligent man.” He popped dimes into the slotted machine that slightly resembled a pencil sharpener, one at a time. “Ok…now what.”

A loud obnoxious beeping came from beside his feet, followed by the loud drone of a dial tone. “Oh, you have got to be kidding.” Bloody dial up. This was going to take a while.

He looked out the window to see if he could spot Rose. The smile slipped off his face when he found her. She was across the street, sitting on a bench. Talking and laughing with Mickey the Idiot. His insides twisted. Anger bubbled through his veins. He wanted to run out there, grab her off the bench, and then…and then what? He had no right to act like that. Didn’t really have a right to feel the intense jealousy he was feeling now. Sure, to everyone else he did. But he knew better, and so did she. That’s what made the difference.

The computer stopped beeping, his connection finally came through. Scrubbing his hands down his face, he pushed his thoughts and feelings aside. Rose deserved to be happy. Fingers flying over the keyboard, he went to work.

An hour later, they were walking aimlessly down the street. This was very different from the walk they had shared earlier. There was no talking this time. No teasing, no smiling. And they were careful not to touch, strolling on almost opposite sides of the tiny one lane road.

John looked over at Rose. She was deep in thought. He hated this silence. At the start of the trip, he would have welcomed it. But not now. She had wormed her way into his heart, and he hated that too. He let out a rough sigh.

“So. Mickey looked…well.”

“Hmm?” She looked over at him, slowly coming back to reality. “Oh, yeah. He’s alright. Missing his Gran. She died a few years back.”

“Oh.” John wasn’t sure if that revelation should make him feel better or worse about the earlier situation. “Still, must have been nice to see him. Chat and catch up.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it was.” She smiled at him. “It’s been a long time.”

“Oh, there they are.” The familiar voice called out from behind them.

“Oi, spaceman!” It was Donna this time.

“Why does she always call me that?” John muttered under his breath as he and Rose turned around. Rose’s only answer was a quiet giggle. Pete and Donna were walking down the street towards them.

“I’m sorry, son, but you’re going to have to come with us.” Pete smiled and jerked his head back the way he had come. 

John stiffened at the endearment. He knew Pete hadn’t meant it in demeaning way. It had been a long time since someone had called him that. He wasn’t sure how to respond. “Umm…no. No, that’s ok. I’m just going to-“

“Relax. Don’t worry.” Donna cut him off, waving her hand in the hair. “No striper, no chanting in the woods. I promise.” 

“Oh…umm…” John looked to Rose for help. But before either of them could say or do anything else, Donna came up to him and grabbed him by the arm.

“Come on, get your skinny arse moving.” Donna began dragging him down the street. John continued to stammer and cast helpless glances over his shoulder at Rose’s retreating form.

“Go grab a bite to eat, sweetheart. We’ll bring him back in one piece.” Pete pulled her in for a quick hug before running to catch up.

Rose smiled softly to herself, watching John get carted off between her gran and her father. She went off in search of food, trying to collect her swirling thoughts. Some of them had to do with Mickey. And while it had been good to see him, she had also had that chance to fully accept their reality. She loved Mickey, probably always would to some extent of the word. But she wasn’t _in_ love with him. Mentally vocalizing that to herself caused the flood gates to open, all the thoughts and feelings she had been having towards John threatening to drown her. This weekend needed to end, and soon.

John found himself shoved into the dressing room of a quaint tailoring shop. Donna had briskly instructed him to strip and try on the tux already hanging inside the stall. He had tried to weasel out of it. That is until she had threatened to come in there and undress him herself. No thank you. Pete had stood by, laughing.

Mentally swearing and complaining, John pulled on the tux. Without bothering to look at himself in the mirror, he stepped out of the dressing room. Donna silently prodded him over to the three way mirror. The pants were a little loose and the arms a little too short, and he hadn’t bothered with the tie. Even so, the image he saw in the mirror combined with the knowledge of _why_ he was wearing it in the first place made him want to run full tilt out the door.

He was getting married…tomorrow. To Rose. He felt like he had been hit by a truck. It was too much, too fast. He was afraid it wasn’t going to work, that they would be found out. And then how would he explain that to her family? They had honestly been nothing but kind to him since he arrived. And he knew they had plenty of reason not to. Another part of him was simply nervous for the obvious reason. He would be marrying Rose, and he thrilled at the possessive element that implied. She would be his. He knew her enough by now to know that one did not own Rose Tyler. But he would have a claim on her that signaled other men to keep their hands off. That train of thought scared him more than anything else. He swallowed audibly, willing his legs to stop twitching.

“Oh, would you relax,” Donna huffed. “I’ll have it all fixed and fitted in no time.”

“Don’t worry about the fit. Donna is the best tailor in all of London.” Pete winked at her.

“I’m not that brilliant. But I am quite good.” Donna smiled widely, bustling around John pinning and taking measurements as she worked.

“So, John. Jacks had wanted me to ask. Maybe this year we could come back to London early and visit with you two for the holidays?” Pete tossed the question out casually, but he picked at his sleeve and avoided John’s eyes.

“Sure. Or we could come see you?” The words had popped out of his mouth before he even registered what he had just suggested.

“Oh. Well, that would be great. Jackie would love that!” His phone rang. He checked the caller id and laughed. “That’ll be her then. I’m going to step out for a minute.” Greeting Jackie as he opened the phone, he walked out of the shop.

“There we are then. Not too many changes. I’ll have this all ready by tomorrow.” Donna brushed her hands on her thighs as she moved to a small wooden jewelry box near the window. “Now, just one more thing.”

John remained rooted to the spot, replaying the conversation with Pete over and over in his head. It was such a small thing really. He had only said seven words in response. But they were a heavy seven words, laced with promise and commitment.

Donna came back over to him, holding something in her fist. “Here. It’s been in the family for over a hundred years.”

John looked down. Cradled in her now open palm was a ring. Judging by the size, it was a man’s ring. He wouldn’t have guessed it to be that old, it still shined like new. John noticed that it was white gold, just like the ring Rose was wearing. It was simple and plain, no markings or stones. The simplicity of it didn’t bother him, he actually rather liked it. The fact that this had been part of Rose’s family for decades and now Donna was trying to give it to him…that bothered him. He knew how much sentimental value could be placed on family belongings. After all, he had kept his mother’s ring for decades, the only thing he had kept actually. Donna was giving him a piece of her family, of her history. She was entrusting it to him. He didn’t deserve it. He couldn’t speak.

“My great-grandfather gave it to my great-grandmother when they got married. They almost didn’t though. Their parents didn’t approve. Back then parents obviously had a lot more say in the personal affairs of their children.” Donna gave him a knowing look and chuckled.

“How did they stay together then?”

“He was a lot like you. Stubborn. Wouldn’t take no for an answer. He was good for her.” Donna’s reassuring smile only caused John to look at his feet, fighting the rising heat in his cheeks. “It was passed down to my father when my parents married. My father died before I got married. He never got to walk me down the aisle.” Donna’s eyes misted over, and she looked at some unknown point in the room. “Anyway, it was given to me to give to my husband, Lee, when we did get married. He passed away just before Rose started working for you I believe. I want you to have it.” She held the ring out toward him.

“I-I…Donna, I can’t take this.” Never before had he felt so small. He tried to gently push her hand away.

“I don’t want to hear it. Grandmothers love to give stuff to their grandchildren. Makes us feel we will still be part of your lives after we’ve gone. I _want_ you to have it. Take it.” She grabbed his hand and placed the ring in his palm, closing it back up with both her hands.

John shook his head, feeling the long forgotten sting of tears in his eyes. He knew he wouldn’t break down in front of Donna. Her bringing tears to his eyes with her actions and words showed just how overcome with emotion he was. It had been a very long time since he’d had anyone treat him like family, like they genuinely cared.

“Are you alright?” Donna asked gently.

“What?” John brought his gaze from his fist to her eyes. “I’m always alright. I just…I just wanted to make sure that there was plenty of time to finish the sewing.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand.

Donna laughed. “Let me worry about that. You’ll be perfectly handsome. Even if you are a thin streak of nothing.”

“Oi!” He paused for a moment, tugging on his ear. “What about Rose’s outfit?”

Donna playfully smacked his arm. “Don’t you worry about that. You’ll find out soon enough. Now, let’s get you out of these pins.”

Not wanting to set it down and lose it, John was left with no choice but to place the ring on his finger while he changed. His hands shook as he got back into his blue pinstriped suit. He caught a glance of himself in the mirror. The ring stood out on his hand. It looked and felt like it belonged there. Hurriedly, he pulled it off and shoved it into a jacket pocket.

Exiting the dressing room, he found Pete chatting with Donna. They paused long enough for Pete to tell him that Rose was waiting at the boat. John quickly excused himself and headed towards the dock as fast as he could without actually running.

His heart hammering and mind whirling, he flew down the ladder to the dock. He hopped into the boat, barely registering Rose sprawled out on the backseat, hoodie off with her eyes closed as she enjoyed the sunlight. He had paid close attention to the steps required to start the boat when they had left the house earlier. He wasn’t waiting for her to notice him. He needed to just _go_.

Rose felt the boat rock slightly as he had climbed aboard. She stood up, noticing he had already removed the ropes and was now positioned in the driver’s spot. “John?”

He didn’t answer. He turned the key and pushed the throttle all the way forward. The boat roared to life, front end kicking up at the sudden burst of speed. The unexpected movement threw Rose backwards, unceremoniously depositing her back on the seat.

“Hey! Mind telling me what the hell is wrong?” Rose pulled herself forward, yelling over the sounds of wind and water rushing past.

John didn’t look at her. “I just needed to get away from everybody.”

“Ok. What’s wrong? What happened?” Rose was standing on the front passenger side now, hands tightly gripping the glass in front of her.

“Nothing. Would you please shut up?” 

John’s biting tone hurt and she had half a mind to tell him off. Angling her head so the wind whipped her hair straight back, no longer obstructing her view, she took a good look at his face. His jaw was clenched tightly and he had a look of wild desperation. He looked utterly lost. She kept her mouth shut, letting him have this moment.

John steered the boat out into open water. Adrenaline flowed through his veins as he continued to push the boat to its limits. He was aware of Rose glancing at him now and then. He was sure his face was full of the emotions he was trying so desperately to run away from, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. After five minutes, she finally broke the heavy silence.

“Mind telling me what’s wrong now?” He didn’t answer. “John?”

The soft pleading tone in the way she said his name broke his resolve. His eyes frantically scanned the water ahead, trying to find an anchor to his chaotic thoughts. 

“I forgot, ok?” His voice came out more rough than he had intended.

“Forgot what?” Rose snapped back.

“I forgot what it was like to have a family!” He chanced a look over at Rose. Her face was a mix of confusion and concern. “I’ve been on my own since I was 16. I forgot what it felt like to have people…to have people love you. And make you breakfast. And say, ‘Hey, we’d love to visit for the holidays’. And I say, ‘Well, why don’t we come visit you instead?’ And give you…family heirlooms.” John took in a shuddering breath, his whole body was shaking. “And you have Mickey. And I’m-I’m just screwing it up!”

“You’re not screwing it up! I agreed to this!” Rose cut him off. Her heart ached for him as he exploded, spilling out details of his past in the process. No wonder he acted the way he did. But she was not going to let him blame himself for her actions. She was an adult, perfectly capable of making her own choices. “You were there, remember?”  
“Your family loves you. Do you know that?” He fixed her with a hardened stare.  
“Yes! I know that!”  
“Do you? You know that? And you’re still willing to put them through this?”  
“They aren’t going to find out!” Rose screamed at him, refusing to be bullied.  
“How do you know they won’t find out?”  
“Because you said so yourself!”  
“But what if they do? What if your mother…”  
“You said so yourself!”  
“Oh god…your mum. What if…oh god!” He released the wheel for an instant, hands flying to pull violently at his hair. The boat rocked wildly, throttle still wide open and nothing keeping the wheel straight.  
“John! The wheel!” While they had been yelling at each other, Rose had released her hold on the glass. The erratic movement of the boat caused her to stumble sideways, towards him but into the open aisle leading to the back of the boat. 

He grabbed the wheel, jerking the boat again. The change in motion caused Rose to lose her footing. She once again found herself sprawled on the back seat.

“If your Gran finds out she’s going to have a heart attack.” John kept his hands on the steering, but had twisted his body to look at her. His whole body was tense and desperate, eyes wide with fear.

“Relax! She’s not going to find out!” Rose caught a flash of red behind him. She pushed herself up, sitting on the edge of the boat, and leaned out to see around him.

“Rose?”

A buoy. They were quickly closing in on one of the giant metal buoys. Shit. 

“John!” Screaming nothing but his name, she pointed in front of them.

He spun around. He panicked for an instant, jerking the wheel at the last second.

Rose had hoped he would turn the other way, so she would merely tumble back inside the boat. Instead she found herself tumbling into the water. She wondered how cold it would be. Her head smacked the side of the boat. Everything went dark before she splashed into the water.

John took a deep breath and eased up on the throttle. Images of the boat smashing into the buoy played in his mind. “You know, you really could have warned me about that sooner. Don’t you know the layout of things out here? You would think-oh, so now you’re going to be quiet? Rose, I-“ He stopped mid-sentence as he looked behind him. She wasn’t in the boat. Where would she have-oh no. 

“Rose!” He swung the boat around, eyes searching the water. “Rose!” Why wasn’t she answering? And why was there no splashing? Couldn’t she swim? As he brought the boat closer to the buoy again, this time a lot more slowly, he saw something pink and yellow bobbing the water. Rose. She was face down, and not moving.

He paused long enough to remove his suit jacket, didn’t want to lose Donna’s ring in the water. Dropping the jacket to the driver’s seat, he climbed up on the edge of the boat. Without hesitation, he dove in. The water was cold and biting. His clothes tried to drag him down, he should have shucked his trainers as well, and he floundered awkwardly at first. He couldn’t recall the last time he had been in the water. He made a point of avoiding it. Right now his thoughts were full of nothing but getting to Rose.

Shivering arms flipped her over. She wasn’t breathing. He slipped an arm around her and began swimming back towards the boat. It was slow going and he felt as if an hour has passed before he finally reached his destination. He struggled, but managed to hoist her up and over the side of the boat.

He arranged her as careful as he could on the back seat then leaned over her, resting on his knees. She still wasn’t breathing. Brushing damp hair off her face, he drew in a deep breath. He pressed his lips to hers, wishing it was under different circumstances, and blew air into her mouth. He pulled back and pressed steadily on her chest with his hands. He repeated the process twice, mind racing and entire body shaking. He knew it wasn’t just from the cold.

After the third time, he cupped her cheek, giving himself a moment to catch his breath. “Please, Rose.”

Rose coughed, choking out water and gasping for air. Her eyes popped wide and she tried to sit up. She groped the air wildly, finding fist fulls of John’s soaking Henley. Her awkward pulling, caused John to lean closer, arms awkwardly positioned on either side of her now, trying to brace himself.

Relief flooded his system. She was soaking wet, shivering from cold, but alive. She panted and shuddered violently, twisting the fabric of his shirt tighter. He gently pried her fingers off his shirt. She struggled against him, eyes still wide with panic.

"Please..." Rose choked out before another spasm rocked her entire body. She clung to his fingers.

"Sshhh. I'll be right back. You need to get warm." He squeezed her hands, staring at her before she nodded in response. Ignoring his own dripping wet and shivering body, he stood up and grabbed his suit jacket off the driver's seat. 

Rose had pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. She continued to shiver and shake, teeth chattering no matter how hard she tried to remain still. John placed his dry jacket on her shoulders, wrapping it around her as best he could. 

He stood back, not sure what to do now. He wanted to hold her, reassure himself that she was alive and ok. But he wasn't going to cross the lines they had drawn. Water droplets in his hair pooled and fell down his face and neck. He tried to suppress the resulting shiver.

"Sit with me." Rose's voice was hoarse and she continued to shake.

He sat down on the seat beside her, keeping his distance. The adrenaline was leaving his body, leaving him cold and hallow. This had been his fault. If he had been paying attention he wouldn't have had to jerk the boat. Rose wouldn't have fallen into the water. 

He looked up to find her watching him. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Don't. Don't do this right now."

"But, Rose. If I-"

"I said don't." She sighed between shivers. "Just...can you..." She trailed off, nervously biting her lip. She broke eye contact, trying to hide the tears pooling in hers.

"Anything." At that moment it was true. Anything she asked, he would do for her. He tried to tell himself it was guilt. It was a lie.

"Hold me." Her flushed cheeks were a stark contrast to her pale face.

He gulped. "I would. But..." He watched as her shoulders slumped and she hugged herself tighter. "It's just that...I'm soaked. If I do, my shirt will get the jacket wet faster. Kind of defeats the purpose of you getting warm and dry."

"Oh."

He waited, but she remained silent. He tugged on his ear. "I could...I could take it off." Her eyes flicked back to his. "If you want," he added hastily.

She watched him for a moment. He tried not to squirm under her scrutiny. She nodded.

His heart beat wildly in his chest. Slowly, he peeled off his Henley, it clung to him like a second skin. He was all too aware of her eyes raking over his chest as he undressed. He tried to keep his breathing even.

He spread his Henley out over the edge of the boat. Turning back towards Rose, he rubbed the back of his neck. He wasn't sure who was supposed to make the first move. 

Rose made a strangled sound in her throat. She was trying not to cry. His uncertainty shattered. He closed the distance between them, pulling her into his lap. She tucked her head under his chin, her cheek against his bare chest. He held her tight, before loosening his grip so he could rub her arms, back, legs...whatever he could reach. 

Her shivers eventually subsided. He wrapped his arms around her, rocking slightly from side to side. He felt her warm breath on his chest in a steady rhythm, hopefully she couldn't hear his erratic heartbeat. Had she fallen asleep?

"You jumped in the water." Her voice ghosted across his chest. 

He shrugged and grunted in response. He would do it again, in a heartbeat.

"You saved me. Thank you." She snuggled closer.

"You're welcome." He pressed a kiss into her hair. A breeze picked up, John shivered.

Rose pulled back so she could look at his face. His hair was mostly dry, but hung limply across his forehead. The sun brought out more of his freckles and his eyes were watching her in a way she could only describe as tender. She still couldn’t quite believe he had jumped in the water to save her. She knew he wasn’t heartless, but she also knew of his fear. Especially out in the open like this. Another breeze ruffled her hair. She felt his whole body shudder around her. 

“You must be freezing. We should get going before we both get pneumonia or something.” John nodded at her, but made no move to release her. Rose chewed her lip, debating on whether what she wanted to do was a good idea or not. “Thank you again, really.” She shifted slightly on his lap and his arms slowly slid off her, fingers tracing paths down her back and down her calf. Afraid of rejection, although she was fairly certain she wouldn’t be, she pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. Smirking at his look of surprise, she hopped off his lap and plopped back down in the front passenger seat.

John sat dazed for a moment. She had kissed him, granted on the cheek, but still. She was also patiently waiting for him to start driving. Shaking his head, he stood up and pulled back on his mostly wet Henley. He couldn’t wait to get dry, the chill was seeping into his very bones. His body was shaking and ached all over. Silently he sat back in the driver’s seat. He had no idea which way to go.

He looked over at Rose, still bundled up in his jacket. Her hair was drying and the sunlight made it shine like a halo. She was beautiful. 

Mistaking his slack jawed expression for confusion, she pointed off in the distance. “That way.”

“What?” John blinked and shook his head. “Oh, right! Brilliant.” He carefully maneuvered the boat in the direction she had indicated.

He spent the time heading back in a panic. He didn’t know what to do. Or even what to say. Blimey, even thinking about asking directions was awkward. He was about to have a nervous breakdown. Until Rose got up and told him to bunch over. He moved as much as he could, which really wasn’t all that much. That didn’t seem to bother her. She sat down, half on the seat and half in his lap, mumbling something about not wanting to shout directions at him over the wind. He grinned like an idiot the rest of the way.


	9. Wedded Disaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to bittie752. And sorry for the delay in updating. Three day long migraines and writing do NOT mix.

John helped Rose out of the boat, more sure of himself and less worried about the water. She was still wearing his suit jacket and he made no move to take it back from her. He rather liked the way she looked in it. They walked down the dock in easy silence, every so often bumping each other's shoulders. Their grins were knocked off their faces by the ominous form of Jackie Tyler, standing at the end of the dock with her arms folded across her chest, scowling.

“I need to talk to the both of you.” She didn’t wait for a reply. Spinning on her heel, she marched off. John and Rose exchanged a worried glance before following in her wake.

Jackie led them to one of the smaller buildings on the property. It was colored the same and John assumed it was some sort of guest house. Walking through the blue door he was surprised to find himself in a very well kept stable. This was their barn? He only had time to take in the warmth and the lighter colored wood before Jackie turned to face them.

“Your father doesn’t know about any of this, nor will he. He has enough to worry about as it is.” She stepped back just a little and projected her voice down a side hallway to someone out of view. “It’s alright now.”

Mr. Saxon stepped around the corner and out of the shadows. “I told you I would check up on you.” A sly smile spread across his stubbled face.

John stiffened and clenched his jaw. 

Rose’s jaw dropped as she rounded on her mother. “What did you do?”

Jackie placed her hands on her hips. “I got a phone call from Mr. Saxon here. He told me that if you’re lying, and he thinks you are, that he would send you to prison. So I flew him out here.”

“Mum.” Rose looked up at the ceiling, anger and hurt raging within her.

“Luckily for you, your mother negotiated a deal on your behalf.” Mr. Saxon pulled a small recorder out of a pocket, flipping it in the air before focusing back on Rose. “Now. This offer is going to last, oh, about twenty seconds. So listen closely. You’re going to make a statement, admitting this marriage is a sham.” His eyes flashed with challenge in John’s direction. “Or you can go to prison. Tell the truth and you’re off the hook. And _he_ will go back to Canada.”

John glared at Jackie, showing his emotions in just his eyes, not daring to do more. Jackie returned his heated stare with one of her own. He was furious. He was also scared. Rose could very well take this out and leave him to deal with his own problems. In truth, it’s what he deserved.

Her face softened slightly as she looked at Rose. “Take the deal, sweetheart.”

“I don’t think so.” Rose’s voice was hard and quiet. She hadn’t taken her gaze off of Mr. Saxon. She couldn’t believe her mother would do this. She thought that yesterday they were beginning to put everything behind them. Even though it was true, the marriage was a sham, her mother didn’t know. And it hurt that Jackie hadn’t confronted her about it before staging this little meeting. She had given John her word, she wasn’t just going to back out on him now. 

“Don’t be daft, Rose.”

Rose shot her mother a withering look. She took a small step forward, bringing her attention back to the immigration agent. “You want a statement? Here’s your statement.” John held his breath, not sure if she would confess or not. He couldn’t blame her if she did. Mr. Saxon held out the device towards her, pressing the record button. “I’ve been working for John Noble for three years. Six months ago, we started dating. We fell in love. He asked me to marry him, I said yes.” She flashed her ring at him then faced her mother. “I’ll see you at the wedding.” 

Catching the determined look on her face as she turned around, John hurried to open the door for her. They walked in silence all the way to their room. He trailed a little behind, giving her some space to think things through. 

She hadn't turned on him yet. But part of him was thinking that she should. Her and Jackie were at odds, and it was all his fault. She was risking her future all because he was selfish and impatient. He almost ran back and turned himself in. He hadn't felt this awful, this guilty, since his parents died. Only this time, it actually was his doing.

After entering their room, Rose dragged herself over to the sofa. She flopped down on the seat and wrapped her arms tightly around her chest, still in John's jacket. Her hair was in soft waves from drying in the open air. John was struck by how beautiful she looked. But the haunted, far away look in her eyes nearly broke his heart.

John had closed the door behind him and was standing by the fireplace, watching her. He had to find out what she truly wanted to do. If she wanted to go through with it, great. If she wanted to back out, he would let her. He would admit to everything. He wanted her to be happy. Right now she very much was not. He wanted to take her in his arms. He couldn’t. "So...are you sure about this?"

Slowly she turned to look at him, eyes soft and honest. "Not really."

John took a deep breath and drug a hand down his face. " Look. I appreciate everything you've done. I do, but-"

"You'd do the same for me." 

He struggled for a response. Three days ago the answer would have been a resounding no. And he could tell she knew it. But now...Now he would anything for her. Didn't matter the consequences for himself, he would do anything she asked. They stared at each other. Just as John opened his mouth, there was a series of knocks on the door.

"Hope you two are decent." Donna poked her head through the door, giggling, before entering all the way. She poked a finger at John. “You need to come with me, spaceman. The baby maker needs a rest tonight. It’s tradition.” She walked over to the bed, grabbing the quilt. 

John stared at her. “We weren’t-we haven’t...I mean. We weren’t going to use that. It. The baby maker.”

“You’ve got your whole lives to be together. Now, give your bride a kiss and let’s go. Good night, love.” She planted a kiss on Rose’s forehead then headed back towards the door. Rose’s cheeks flushed pink, and she looked up at John through her lashes. “Move it,” Donna snapped over her shoulder as she strode out of the room, giving them a moment alone.

John rubbed the back of his neck, shifting awkwardly on his feet.

Rose smiled at him softly. “You know if you don’t leave, she’s just-”

“Going to come right back.” John finished for her. He knew it was true. 

“Yeah.” They both smiled and laughed softly.

John walked towards the door then hesitated. He turned back to look at Rose, still slumped on the sofa. “See you in the morning?”

Rose nodded. “Yeah.”

He could see tears forming in her eyes. He never hated himself more than in that moment. Without thinking, he crossed the distance between them. Her eyes widened as he gently cupped her cheek. “Good night, Rose.” He hooked a finger under her chin, tilting her face up. He probably shouldn’t be doing this. He didn’t even think she returned his feelings, at least not to the same degree. He stomped out those kind of thoughts, choosing to refocus on her lips. 

Her honey eyes watched him carefully. Her chest heaved up and down, heart racing with anticipation. He leaned down swiftly and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. Cherishing the feel of her mouth against his, he released her and hurried out of the room before she could react. 

Rose was left in a daze. Hand slowly coming up to touch where his lips had been. Her mind and her heart were sending conflicting signals. Her mind provided any number of reasons as to why he would act this way, even with keeping it strictly business. Her heart wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of her life finding out what it was like to truly kiss him. Thoughts of her Jackie and Mr. Saxon broke through. She placed her head in her hands. It was too much. She was too emotionally drained to do this right now, she just wanted to sleep and forget it all.

She didn’t bother to get properly ready for bed. She would get plenty clean and pampered in the morning. She quickly brushed her teeth and splashed some water on her face. Slipping out of her wet clothes, she hesitated only an instant before pulling John’s coat back on over her bra and knickers and crawling into bed. It was at least half an hour before her whirlwind mind calmed enough to allow for sleep.

.....

A bed had been made up for John out on the living room couch. He flicked off the telly, the light and noise doing more to distract him instead of lull him to sleep. It was apparent to him now that Rose was not going to back out of their deal. Even with what it was doing to her family, specifically her relationship with Jackie. She had given him her word and she was hell bent on keeping it. He shifted slightly on the couch, trying not to wake Isolus, who had curled up at his feet. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing sleep to claim him. It was some time for he finally drifted off, dreaming the same two dreams over and over. Marrying Rose and hurting later or letting her go and hurting now.

The next morning was a blur of action and commotion. Rose had stayed holed up in the room they had been sharing. He was politely reminded that ‘the bloody groom’ does not get to see the bride before the wedding. No exceptions. He was aware of people coming and going, the smell of food drifted from the kitchen. He was then shoved into a guest bedroom and told to stay put. 

Pete brought him food and for once John was grateful for the distraction of the telly. He was a nervous ball of energy. After he had finished eating he bounded off the bed. He threw himself into some repeat football game that he could have cared less about. But it allowed him to pace, yell, and pull at his hair in frustration without having to explain the real reason he was acting out of character.

Finally Donna brought him his tux, scolding him for not already being showered. He needed to hurry his skinny arse up. Or she would send Jack up to help him. He didn’t need to be told twice.

Donna came back later to find him pacing back and forth, head down with brow furrowed in concentration. His hands were shoved deep into the trouser pockets of his tux. He was trying very hard not to mess with his perfectly styled hair. Unfortunately, that meant he had fidgeted with his tie. The knot was undone and hung unevenly under his collar. He had been pleasantly surprised to find that Donna had actually done a fantastic job. The tux fit him perfectly and he silently congratulated himself on bringing his black trainers. There was no way he would wear regular dress shoes. Besides, he was feeling more and more ready to run.

Donna stepped in front of him. He nearly crashed into her, not realizing she was there until the last moment. He halted and blinked furiously, coming slowly back to reality.

She arched an eyebrow at him. “Didn’t hear me calling you?”

“What? Oh, sorry. Guess not.” He tugged on his ear and rocked on his heels.

She rolled her eyes. “Come here. Let me fix your tie, then it’s time to get things moving.”

John watched as she adjusted his tie with practiced fingers. “Why are you so nice to me?”

She laughed. “You’re about to become family. And I know Rose has said some awful, truly truly awful, things about you in the past. And you really can be a right pain in the arse. But...I can tell it’s all for show. Besides, as long as Rose is happy, that’s all that matters.” She straightened his tie one last time, giving it a little pat. “There, now come on.”

His heart ached as he followed Donna. Guilt rolled over him in huge crashing waves, each one larger than the last. What a bloody idiot he’d been. This whole thing was quite possibly the stupidest thing he’d ever done. How did he get so disconnected from people? Now the one person he had come to care for the most, was going to get hurt. 

He was fairly certain Rose had grown to care for him. But he was also fairly certain that she wasn’t in love with him. She was making the most of the situation. And if that meant being friendly, well so be it. His opening up and being friendly in return only made it easier. Most of all, the way it was dividing her and her mother was making him sick. How could he do this to her?

With a start, he noticed his surroundings. He had blindly followed Donna all the way to the barn. Wooden seats had been arranged to form an aisle that led up to a little dias. Soft lights, thin trees, and soft ferns decorated the area, most of them arching over the entryway. It was simple and elegant, despite being in a barn. It was perfect.

All the guests had already filed in and taken their seats. Donna walked with him up to the front, and he was suddenly grateful for the more casual atmosphere. She patted his arm then cocked her head. He bent down, puzzled expression on his face. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek then took her seat next to Jackie. He tried not to choke on the new onslaught of guilt.

Soft orchestral music began to play. John tried to remain calm and not squirm. The familiar urge to run away coiled and built steadily in his feet. His eyes darted around the room, looking for an exit. Doors, windows, skylight...he didn’t care. Rustling filled the room as everyone stood to their feet. He turned toward the entryway as Rose came into view, all thought vanished from his mind.

She was beautiful, gorgeous, alluring...any word he could think of fell flat. It wasn’t good enough to describe how she looked. Her dress was white with a modest train. Subtle beading emphasized her slim waist line. The silky cap sleeves held the illusion of keeping the neckline in place; it was swooping and cut low enough to tease, but not low enough to be outrageous. Her blonde hair had been pulled back into a soft elegant bun, a few loose curls framing her face. She wore no veil, simple diamond earrings and a matching necklace that hung low, bringing further attention to her chest. John sucked in a breath, trying to remember how to breathe.

Pete escorted her down the aisle. One arm was looped through hers and she held a simple bouquet of pink and yellow roses. John locked eyes with her as they approached. Every one else seemed to melt away. Pausing before him, Pete kissed Rose on the cheek before sitting down with Jackie and Donna. Rose gave John a small smile before they turned to face the officiant.

Jack. Of course it would be Jack. At least he was dressed appropriately. He wore a black suit, white oxford, and a sleek black tie. He spread his arms wide, smiling and inclining his head just slightly at the pair. John and Rose stepped up on the dias in unison. Clasping his hands, he spoke to the room. “Please, be seated.”

He leaned forward, winking at John.

John smiled nervously. “Jack.”

“Hi handsome,” he whispered. Rose choked back a giggle.

Jack straightened up, preparing to project his voice. “We are gathered here today to give thanks...and to celebrate one of life’s greatest moments. To give recognition to the beauty, honesty, and unselfish ways of John and Rose’s true love in front of family and friends.” John and Rose looked at each other, sad looks in their eyes, each for their own reasons. Rose looked back to Jack. John stared at the floor with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“For it is their family and friends who taught John and Rose to love. So it is only right that family and friends are all…” Jack paused as John slowly raised his hand partially in the air. “Question?” Jack kept his voice low, making sure no one else heard.

“Uh no.” John hesitated. He still wasn’t sure he was making the right choice. Rose at looked him, lips pressed together and both eyebrows raised.

“Um, your hand is up.”

Mr. Saxon leaned forward in his seat, predatory gleam in his eye. Something was happening up front, something possibly beneficial for him.

“Oh, um, it’s, that is...it’s not really a question. But I do have something I need to say.” John stared at Jack, willing him to understand.

“John,” Rose hissed between her teeth.

“Can it wait?” Jack stared at him expectantly.

John looked at the floor. He could feel the tension pouring off of Rose. He didn’t blame her, and he knew this would be temporarily embarrassing for her. But in the long run, it was what was best. He couldn’t stand here and listen to Jack’s words about honesty and the importance of family knowing he was making Rose lie to her family. The love part was true, for him. Using Rose for his own benefit was tearing his heart in two.

He brought his eyes back to Jack. “Um...no. No.”

People shifted nervously in their seats. Jack stepped back, spreading his hands with the palms up. Rose sighed heavily, her posture slumping in defeat. John turned around to face the crowd, Rose slowly following suit.

John cleared his throat. “Hi. Um, hi there.”

There were confused murmurs of ‘hi’ in response. He caught Jackie’s glare and Donna’s contented smile, the stark contrast unnerving him.

“Thank you all so much for coming. I have...er, a bit of an announcement to make. About the wedding. A confession actually.” He shoved his hands in his trouser pockets, slipping back into business mode.

“What are you doing?” Rose leaned forward and whispered. 

Telling the truth for once in his life. He ignored her, plowing on before he lost his nerve. “I’m a Canadian. Yup. Canadian. With an expired visa who was about to be deported. And because I’m selfish and impatient, I didn’t want to leave London and my place of work. So I forced Rose to marry me.” He took a moment to look sheepishly over at her.

Rose squeezed her eyes shut, fighting to keep her emotions under control. “John, stop it.”

“See, Rose has always had this extraordinary work ethic. Brilliant really. And an unmatched determination.” He looked at Jackie. She was sitting with her arms crossed, still glaring at him. He smiled softly and nodded at her. “Something I think she learned from you.” Jackie blinked and her arms loosened.

Rose couldn’t look at anyone. She stared at her bouquet, now pointless and mocking her.

“For three years I watched her work harder than anyone else at our company.” John’s voice had gotten louder, not with confidence but with pride. Pride in her. “And I knew that if I threatened to destroy her career she would...she would do just about anything.” He shut his eyes, feeling the regret and shame welling up inside.

“So I blackmailed her to come up here and lie to you.” He looked directly at her family, then out at the rest of the audience. “All of you.”

Rose swallowed and looked at the gathering through her lashes, not yet wanting to make direct eye contact with anyone. Everyone wore a varying degree of shocked expressions. Except Mr. Saxon. He leaned back, fingertips of each hand pressed together. His index fingers were pressed against his lips, an attempt to hide his smug smile. Pete and Donna looked as heartbroken as Rose felt. Her mother looked ready to jump up and slap John silly. She watched John out of the corner of her eye as he continued talking, her own emotions running every which way.

“And I thought it would be easy to watch her do it.” John gulped audibly, freeing a hand from his trousers to rub the back of his neck. “But it wasn’t. Turns out, it’s not so easy to ruin someone’s life once you find out how wonderful they are.” His voice was breaking almost as badly as his heart. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Rose, so he focused on Jackie. “You have a beautiful family. Don’t let this come between you. This was my fault.” He noticed Jackie’s expression soften, tears in her eyes as Pete slid his arm around her. Donna had closed her eyes, frown creasing her forehead.

“John..” Rose’s voice was small, she wasn’t sure what to say. She wasn’t even sure what was happening. Only that John had decided not to go through with the wedding. She wanted to cry, from happiness or rejection she couldn’t tell.

John hardened his features before turning towards her. It would be easier if she couldn’t see how much this was killing him. “Rose, this was a business deal. And you held up your end, but now the deal is off.” He stepped off the dais so he wouldn’t have to see her face once the words registered in her mind. He paused next to Donna, gently squeezing her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

He continued his path down the aisle, hushed whispers getting louder in his wake. He pointed a finger at Mr. Saxon. “Meet me at the dock. You’re taking me to the airport.” Nothing else to say, no one left to hurt, he stormed out of the barn, angry only at himself.

Mr. Saxon sat forward in his chair, laughing.

Rose was frozen on the spot. She heard people whispering and was vaguely aware of them looking in her direction, but none of them dared speak to her. None of them, except her mother.

“What were you thinking?” Jackie huffed, hands on her hips.

“I don’t...I don’t know.” She really didn’t. She thought that he...but maybe he didn’t? Or did he? All those things he said...none of it made any sense. Just like him.

“Rose, you lied to us.”

“Just...let me process this ok. I’ll explain it all to you later. I’m sorry.” Rose shoved the flowers into her mother’s hands then ran down the aisle, thankful she had decided to wear trainers (granted a new white pair) instead of heels.

.....

Once John reached the house, he dashed up to their room. Frantically, he grabbed his clothes and other items that had ended up strewn about the room. Usually he was meticulous about how everything got packed. Right now he didn’t care. This room reminded him of her. And the last thing he wanted was for her to find him still here. 

He changed back into his blue suit ensemble (Jackie had cleaned it for him yesterday) then laid the tux carefully on the bed. Next to it he placed Rose’s manuscript and the wedding band Donna had given him to wear. He brushed his fingers over it, allowing himself one moment to dream about what could have been. Shaking himself back into reality, he grabbed a pen and spare sheet of paper from the desk. He hastily scribbled out a note to place with everything else. He took one last look at the room before grabbing his suitcase and running for the dock.

.....

Rose flung open the door to their room. Strands of her hair had fallen loose, giving her a slightly wild appearance. It fit how she was feeling. Her eyes swept the room. Empty. The room was empty. She had missed him.

Taking in the tux on the bed, she crossed the room. Gently, she touched each item, tears forming in her eyes. She picked up the note with shaking hands and began to read.

_You were right. This book is special. I lied because I knew publishing it meant I would lose you as an assistant. You have an extraordinary eye. I’ll make sure we buy this before I leave. Have a fantastic life, Rose. You deserve it._

_John_

_Keep the ring. If I was willing to put you through all this, I don’t deserve it. My mother would have liked you to have it._

She heard footsteps enter the room. “Well, that was nuts.”

Mickey. She turned to look at him, crumpling the corner of the note in her hand.

He walked closer. “You know people are going to be talking about this...forever.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” She was distracted, trying to sift through everything she had just read, everything that had happened within the past hour. 

“You ok, babe?”

“Yeah.” Rose took a deep breath. That was a lie. “No. Um...I just feel...you know what the problem is?” She spun on her heel to face him, letting it all out in a rush of emotion. “The problem is that this man is a gigantic pain in my arse. First, there’s the whole running and leaving thing. I understand that. It’s a sham wedding. It’s kind of stressful. But then he goes and leaves this...this bloody note! Because he doesn’t have the decency, the _humanity_ to do it to my face.”

Mickey opened his mouth to speak, but she wasn’t finished.

“Three years. Three years I work with this...this terrorist. Never once did he have anything nice to say to me. Ever! And then he goes and writes this shit!” She balled up the paper and threw it across the room.

“Rose.”

“None of it matters. We had a deal!”

“Rose…”

“I’m sorry. Sorry, Mickey. It’s just…” She took a deep breath, calming herself. “He just makes me a little crazy.”

“Yeah, I can see that. So, you’re just going to let him go?”

Rose’s head snapped up. Mickey looked at her with a knowing grin. Rose went through all the events leading up to this in her mind. All the talks, the touches, the stolen glances. She thought he didn’t love her. She thought she was the only one forming any kind of real attachment to the other. She had been wrong. He had been falling too. That had to be it. If he didn’t genuinely care about her, he would have gone through with the wedding. Consequences be damned. The truth of the whole situation settled on her. She had to get to him.

“Thanks, Mickey.” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek before bounding out the door.

.....

Mr. Saxon had followed John’s instructions, not that John had any doubt that he would, and met him at the dock. With the wedding, ferry’s were scheduled to take people to and from town. Mr. Saxon had kept one waiting, delaying the other passengers, until John had arrived with his luggage. They boarded in silence. About half way across the water, John turned to look at the man who was now in control of his future.

“So what now?”

“Well. Now that you’re leaving voluntarily, it all becomes rather civilized. Once we land in London, you will have 24 hours to get your affairs in order and get back to Canada. If not, I will have the pleasure of removing you by force.”

.....

Rose made it through the house and now tried to hurry across the lawn, attempting to dodge people and tables and chairs. She was about halfway through the mess of things when her mom appeared by her side. Donna and Pete nearby.

“What are you doing?” Jackie snapped.

“I have to talk to him, mum.” Rose paused only a moment to answer.

“Girls.” Donna’s warning voice was quiet, and ignored by both women.

“After this? Why would you do that?” Jackie flung her arms out, baffled by her daughter’s reaction.

“This doesn’t concern you.”

“Girls, stop.” Donna tried again, a crowd now gathering around the commotion.

Jackie grabbed Rose’s arm before she could rush past. “I’m not going to let you do this.”

“I wasn’t asking for permission.” Rose yanked her arm free and faced her mother head on.

Donna’s face contorted and she gripped at her chest. She grabbed at a nearby chair to steady herself, eyes fluttering and her breathing labored. 

Pete had come closer to Donna when heard Jackie lash out at Rose. He took hold of Donna’s arm as she began to collapse to the ground. He called out over his shoulder, “Jacks! It’s Donna!”

Mother and daughter looked over and saw Donna being lowered to the grass. They glanced at each other, fight forgotten, then burst into a run.

“I think I’m having a heart attack.” Donna’s voice was weak and laced with pain. Her arms shook as Pete and Jackie tried to make her comfortable..

“Easy, easy.” Rose knelt beside Donna, not caring if her dress got messed up in the grass. “Someone get a doctor!”


	10. Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end! Thank you for reading and an extra thank you to those that commented/reviewed/kudo'd/etc. And huge thank to bittie752 for her support and encouragement!

The paramedic team arrived via seaplane a few minutes later. An oxygen mask was placed on Donna’s face as they loaded her onto the stretcher. It was a bit of a walk from the reception area on the lawn to the very end of the dock where the plane had landed, but the team hurried as fast as they could without jostling her too much. Donna lay with her arms crossed atop her chest, eyes wrenched shut in pain, and her head rolling from side to side. An occasional groan escaped her lips. Pete, Jackie, and Rose all rushed along behind them, refusing to stay and wait on shore. 

The paramedics loaded Donna on the plane first, climbing in behind her. Rose shuffled in next, wrestling with her dress, extremely thankful she hadn’t gotten something huge and poofy. Jackie and Pete squeezed in after her. Once the door was shut the pilot began take off. The crowd on shore watched the plane skim across the water with worried looks.

The paramedics were seated directly behind the pilot and the open cockpit. Donna’s stretcher took up one side of the plane, leaving the family to sit opposite her. Everyone sat in silence, anxiously waiting out the journey as the minutes ticked by. 

Donna groaned, rolling her head to face Rose. She reached up, removing the oxygen mask from her face. “Rose…” Her voice was hoarse and strained. Rose leaned forward grabbing Donna’s hand. Jackie and Pete inclined forward, curious as to what Donna felt was so important that she had to say it right now.

Donna took a deep shuddering breath, closing her eyes for just a moment before focusing them on Rose and Jackie. “You two need to stop fighting. You’ll never see eye to eye.” Rose and Jackie exchanged guilty looks. Donna zeroed in on Jackie, voice cracking. “You’re family. Promise me you’ll support Rose. Even if...if you don’t agree with her.”

Jackie gripped Donna’s arm, placing her other hand over her mouth. She nodded, tears forming in her eyes. “I promise.”

Donna turned to Rose, voice more tired from too much use. “Rose. Promise me you will work harder to be a part of this family.”

A single tear slipped down Rose’s cheek. “I will, Gran. I promise.” She gripped Donna’s hand tighter. This couldn’t be the end. It wasn’t fair. She hadn’t had time to set things right. Her gran was going to die believing that her relationship with John had been a lie. Well, it had. But she wanted to change that, make it real. But Donna would never get to see it. It broke her heart almost as much as John’s abrupt departure.

Pete wrapped an arm around Jackie’s shoulders, rubbing her arm. 

Donna rolled all the way onto her back. She released Rose’s hand, once more crossing her arms over her chest. She closed her eyes. “Well, then, the spirits can take me.”

“Gran,” Rose choked out. The three of them leaned forward, touching whatever part of her they could reach. None of them wanted her to go, but if she was ready, they would let her. One of the paramedics replaced the oxygen mask, checking different readings. The only sounds were the rush of air streaming past and the roar of the plane’s engines. Jackie and Rose held back their sobs, wanting to wait until she had passed before giving in to the grief.

A full minute passed in tense silence. 

Donna’s eyes popped open. She pulled off the mask, cheeky grin spreading across her face. “Guess they’re not ready for me.”

They all stared at her in shock. Rose thought for sure that this was the end. Yet here she was, sitting up on the stretcher, turning toward the paramedics and the cockpit.

“I’m feeling much better, dear. No need to take us to the hospital. To the airport, please.” Huge grin still on her face, she turned to the rest of them.

“What are you doing? _Faking_ a heart attack?” Jackie screeched. 

“Gran!” Rose was torn between being furious and overjoyed.

Pete leaned back against the window, laughing.

“Well. It was the only way I could get you two bloody idiots to shut up and get us to the airport!” Donna shot back.

Rose looked over at Pete in disbelief. He merely shrugged his shoulders, still chuckling about the whole situation.

“We’re not authorized to take you to the airport, ma'am,” the pilot called over her shoulders.

Donna snapped around to the pilot. “Melody Pond, don’t make me call your mother.”

There was brief pause. The mass of curls shook back and forth. “You got it.” The response was tinged with a smile.

Donna nodded smugly. Laying back down on the stretcher, she got as comfortable as possible, satisfied that things were now going how they should.

Rose rubbed a hand over her face, releasing a deep breath. She was eternally grateful that her gran was clearly ok and in no danger of dying. However, in her current emotional state, it had been quite the fright. Her feelings were on edge and she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “You scared the hell out of me.”

Donna placed a reassuring hand on Rose’s knee. “I’m sorry, dear. It was the only thing I could think of to get you two to stop arguing. It also gave us a faster way to the airport.” She winked at Rose, giving her a knowing smile.

Rose blushed, slightly shaking her head. How her gran had known what was going on and about her feelings for John before she knew herself, she had no idea. Still, she was thankful.

…..

John found himself in a most undesirable position, seated next to Mr. Saxon on the cramped airplane. If he had thought the plane ride with Rose was long, that flight would turn out to be nothing in comparison to this torture. Rose. He would give anything to be flying with her right now, instead of the slimeball he was currently next to. 

Mr. Saxon adjusted his suit jacket, leaning back in his seat. Arrogant expression still on his face. John hoped his face would break from the strain. 

“You should have given up back in London.” Mr. Saxon’s voice was low and condescending. “I always, and I do mean always, get my man. I’m _that_ good.” He chuckled to himself.

John rolled his eyes and turned to look out the window. Death would be a more welcome experience than this.

…..

A familiar female voice crackled over the radio. “Flight 1042, as soon as you are in position, you are clear to take off.” 

Rose twitched in her seat. She was ready to run. The plane had just landed and was coming to a stop way too slow for her liking. She was fairly certain the plane that had just been cleared for takeoff was the one she needed to be on, or at this point stop from leaving the runway.

She clamored over Jackie and Pete in the small space. She wanted to hop out of the plane as soon as it stopped, not wait for them to exit first. “Mum, give me your phone.”

“What for?” Jackie was completely bewildered.

“Just do it! Please!” Rose held out her hand expectantly. Why couldn't her mom just do as she was asked for once?

“Well, what’s wrong with yours?” Jackie hadn't moved to retrieve her phone.

“If I had mine, I wouldn’t be asking for yours!”

“What did you do with-”

“She’s in her wedding dress! She doesn’t have bloody pockets!” Donna glared at Jackie, daring her to make a retort.

“Oh alright.” Jackie pulled her mobile from her handbag and passed it to Rose.

Rose had taken the mobile just as the plane came to a complete stop. Fighting with the door, she finally managed to get it open. She hopped down to the tarmac, once again thankful she had decided on trainers underneath her dress. There was only one plane getting ready to fly off. In her gut she knew it was the one that John was on. She flipped open Jackie’s mobile, dialing a number and running towards the flight tower.

The line rang twice before the same female from over the radio answered. “This is the flight tower.”

“Martha! It’s Rose! Rose Tyler.”

“Hello!”

“Not to be rude, and cut you off, but...I have a favor I need to ask. John, my fiancee...well, sort of. You know what? It doesn’t matter. He’s on the plane that’s about to take off. I need to talk to him. Can you stop it?” Rose’s voice was frantic. She watched as the plane made it’s final turn at the end of the runway, positioning itself for take off.

“Oh him! I heard about him leaving you in the middle of the ceremony. That’s so awful!”

“Martha! Can you stop the plane? Please!” There could be time for chit chat and catching up later. Right now, she needed to get to John.

“I can’t do that.” There was a hint of sorrow to Martha's matter of fact tone.

Rose turned as the plane careened down the runway, lifting of into the sky. “No, no, no.” Her heart sank. She had missed him. One shot and now he was gone. She felt tears well up in her eyes. Again. Tonight she would be drowning in all the unshed tears she had been holding back. 

Pete, Jackie, and Donna were exiting their plane as the one with John on board launched into the sky.

“Oh no.” Donna’s shoulders slumped, the excitement in her eyes snuffed out.

“What’s wrong?” Jackie looked from Donna to Pete. Both wore similar downcast expressions.

“John’s on that plane.” Donna pointed to the aircraft getting smaller and smaller in the grey sky. “And she didn’t get to tell him.”

“Tell him what?” Jackie was beyond confused. Why was everyone acting so strange? Wasn’t this good?

“That she loves him. So he could tell her that he loves her too.” Donna sighed as Pete helped her down the last two steps.

“What? But how…?” The question died on her lips. 

“If he didn’t love her, he wouldn’t have left.”

“Of course not,” Pete chimed in, looking at Jackie as if she had sprouted another head.

“Am I the only one not getting this, then?” Jackie looked from Pete to Donna, irritated that she had apparently missed something they thought to be obvious.

“Oh, Jackie...for goodness sake.” Donna huffed. The small group walked over to where Rose was standing, Jackie still trying to figure it all out in her head.

“Martha, look down,” Rose whispered into the phone, voice full of defeat.

“Oh there you are! Lovely dress! Sorry, I am. But there was nothing I could do.” Martha waved at her from up in the tower.

Rose waved back weakly, forcing a smile. “Yeah. Thanks.” She closed the phone, eyes watching the sky where his plane had been. She was vaguely aware of eyes on her back.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t know how you felt about him.” Jackie came up behind her, placing an arm around Rose's shoulders.

Rose nodded, leaning into her mother.

“Oh, Rose. It’ll be alright.” Donna tried to sound confident and reassuring. Rose didn’t believe her.

…..

The flight back to London had been just as horrible as John expected. Mr. Saxon spent the duration rubbing the whole thing in John’s face. John was usually against violence, but it was all he could do not to punch him in the face. Before they had parted ways, Mr. Saxon had reminded John that he had 24 hours to get everything together and then get his arse out of London. He knew where John lived, and would be by in _exactly_ 24 hours. Making a show of setting a timer on his mobile, Mr. Saxon flashed one more irritatingly smug smile at John before striding off to find his car.

John had decided to clear his office first. He was sure that Harriet would still honor her initial offer. But that still meant going back to Canada for who knows how long before everything got straightened out. He was thankful to find that Harriet and Christina had taken the day off. He left a message with the receptionist, asking Harriet to call him at her earliest convienence. The girl almost fell out of her chair when he apologized to always being rude to her in the past.

He walked through his floor to his office with his head held high, ignoring the harsh whispered words that swirled around him. He had no idea how, but of course everyone knew what had happened in Alaska. The rumor mill was back in full swing. At least he wouldn’t have to deal with it much longer.

As the door to his office clicked shut, something in his mind clicked into place. Rose. He would never see or work with Rose again. He would be leaving. Yet she would still be here. She would be the one dealing with the aftermath. He knew what most people in the office said about the two of them _before_ the whole Alaska trip. How could he not? He just always ignored it, along with everything else. The full weight of how he had treated her in the past hit him like a ton of bricks. No wonder she didn’t love him in return. And now he was leaving her alone to deal with the monsters they called coworkers. He would have to talk to Harriet about a promotion, or at least moving her to a different floor. It was the least he could do.

Packing up his office didn’t take very long. He was struck at how cold and distant his office had been. Sure he had the typical office decorations, but that was it. He had never added any personal touches. Even what he was bringing home couldn’t really be considered personal items. More like office supplies that he preferred using on a regular basis.

Packing his few belongings, he realized he didn't recognize the person that had worked here. That person had been cold and calculating, doing whatever it took to get the job done no matter who got hurt in the process. He wasn't that man anymore. Sure, he still had a passion and drive for success. But there was no reason to cut people down along the way.

He didn't have to think very hard to know what had caused the change. Not what, but who. Rose Tyler. She didn't even have to try. All she had to do was be herself and he had found himself, heart and mind, responding without thinking about it. Walls he had meticulously built up since he was a teenager, she tore down without any effort. She probably hadn't even noticed the effect she had on him. She had made him better, and would never get to tell her. Of course, what he really wanted was to show her. But that was out of the question.

Knowing he would never see her again hit him with a fresh wave of guilt tinged grief. She would be better off without him. She deserved someone who could love her freely, someone not weighed down by their past. Someone very much not him.

Part of him wanted to break down and actually cry. He hadn't done that since the death of his parents. Rose had gotten under his skin more than he thought. No matter, he wouldn't do that here. Giving the office a last once over, he left the room, his one box tucked under his arm. It was time to pack up his equally sparse flat.

John opened the door to his flat, slowly stepping inside and flicking on the light. The sun was just beginning to set, the remaining light casting long melancholy shadows. He couldn't take that right now. He had already spent too much time thinking about Rose on the cab ride over.

He needed to distract himself before he made the unwise decision to drown his sorrow in liquor. Something he never did, and didn't really think that highly of, but in this case...he would make the exception.

Might as well start packing now. He set the box from the office on the kitchen counter. Deciding to start on the spare room he had used for an office, he first grabbed the boxes out of the closet that he had neatly folded and stored from when he first moved in. He could probably fit everything from his flat into the very same boxes. He hadn't collected that many personal items here either. Strange, considering this was supposed to be his home.

With a grim determination, born from despair, he set to work. He didn’t bother removing his jacket or his trainers. He was unwilling to make himself the slightest bit comfortable or relaxed until he was ready to call it a night. Even then, he half way hoped he would pass out on the spot from exhaustion without noticing until the next morning. It was stupid and irrational. He didn't care.

He was nearly finished packing the kitchen when he heard the door to the flat open and shut. What the bloody hell? If someone was trying to rob him, they would be hard pressed to find something of value. He held his breath, elbow deep in a box full of pans, waiting. Soft footfalls slowly echoed down the entry way.

Robbers. He was sure of it. Silently he picked up a nearby pan, hefting it over his shoulder, ready to swing it like a bat. He crept towards the sound. The footsteps came closer still. Well, he wasn't going to sit around waiting to get jumped. He lunged out around the corner, pan raised in the air.

He froze. His arm lowered and the pan clattered to the floor.

“Hey.” Rose Tyler was standing in the entryway to his flat, hands held up in surrender. Her voice was soft and hoarse. She had on jeans, pink trainers, matching pink cotton t shirt, and her usual grey hoodie. Her hair was loose and wild. She was breathing hard.

“Rose. Why are, why are you panting?” Brilliant. He mentally slapped himself.

“Because I’ve been running.” She arched an eyebrow at him.

“Really? From Alaska?” Oh, he was doing great tonight. In fairness, he had expected to never see her again. Part of him thought he was dreaming. What possible reason could she have to come back here?

“I need to talk to you.” Her voice was firm, and she straightened up, breathing normally.

“Yeah well, I don’t have time to talk. I need to catch a 5:45 to Toronto in the morning. I have _got_ to finish packing my flat and-wait. How did you get in here anyway? I swore I-”

“John! Stop talking!” She glared at him until he nodded his agreement. “I still have your spare key. Now, there’s something I need to say.”

“Ok.” His tone was harsh and impatient. She probably only came back to yell at him. He didn’t have time for it. He knew he messed up. A lot. But that didn’t...who was he kidding? After everything he put her through, she had more than enough right to come down here and verbally abuse him. He rubbed his hand on his cheek. A good slap had probably been warranted as well.

“This will only take a mo.” Rose was insistent. She had noticed him fidgeting and having some sort of inner monologue. She was almost completely convinced that he did indeed return her feelings. But she needed to get this all out and find out for sure before she changed her mind.

“Fine. What?” John shoved his hands into his trouser pockets.

“Three days ago, I loathed you. I used to dream about you getting hit by a cab. Or poisoned.” There was a hardened gleam in her eyes, she wasn’t kidding.

“Oh, that’s nice.” John rolled his eyes, trying to brush off the offense he was feeling. “Rather rude of you. Probably spending too much-”

“I told you to stop talking.” Rose pointed a finger at him. Blimey, the gob on him was out of control. He pouted a bit before inclining his head, indicating that she continue. “Then we had our little adventure in Alaska and things started to change. Things changed when we kissed.”

John’s heart stopped. This wasn’t turning into the verbal beating he had assumed it would be. He swallowed, feeling the need to run. Run out of his own flat? This was ridiculous. He was a grown man. He could handle the attempted manipulation of one female. Even if she happened to be gorgeous. Even if he happened to be in love with her. He could take whatever punishment she decided to give to him. He deserved it at any rate.

Rose had noticed his breath stall and his eyes widen at the mention of their kiss. Whatever he had been expecting her to say, it wasn’t that. She took a deep breath and continued. “And when you told me about your tattoo. Even when you checked me out when we were naked.”

“Well, I didn’t see anything.” John carefully averted his eyes. He pulled a hand out of his pocket to tug at his ear. If he looked at her now, in his mind’s eye he would see her standing there, in his flat, completely naked. Blood rushed to his cheeks, and elsewhere, as he tried to reign in that train of thought.

“Yeah, you did.” Rose gave him one of her tongue in teeth smiles, now fully aware of what it did to him. She stepped closer, slowly closing the distance until they were barely a foot apart. He watched her warily, but made no move to back away. “I didn’t realize any of this until I was left standing alone. In a barn. Husband-less. Now, you can imagine my disappointment when it suddenly dawned on me that the man I love is running away to voluntarily get kicked out of the country.”

John’s breath caught in his throat. Did she really just say what he thought she said? Even if she did, he couldn’t...it was too late. He was too damaged. He locked eyes with her and spoke softly, “Trust me. You don’t really want to be with me.”

“Yes, I do.” Her reply echoed in the small empty hall.

John shook his head. “See the thing is, there’s a reason why I’ve been alone all this time. I’m comfortable that way. I think it would just be a lot easier if we just forget what happened and I just left.” He shrugged, looking at her helplessly. This was him. She had exposed who he was to the very core. He knew she would turn and run now. Fresh heartache exploded in his chest.

“You’re right. That would be easier.” She held his gaze and shuffled a tad closer.

“I’m scared.” His voice cracked.

“Me too.”

Her eyes flicked to his lips, before she finally gave in. She reached up, gripping the lapels of his suit jacket and yanking him down to her. Their lips clashed awkwardly at first. John stiffened, clenching his fists at his sides, not daring to believe what had just happened. Rose increased the pressure of her mouth against his. The slight change in friction broke his resolve, emotions he had been holding back burst forth.

He wrapped his arms around her tightly, almost coming full circle to brush his own ribs, each hand finding purchase in soft grey fabric. Her arms slid up and around his neck, fingers of one hand tickling the hair at the nape of his neck. His nerve endings were on fire. The need to feel her against him burned through his entire being. He pulled her closer, trying to make their bodies occupy the same space. 

Tentatively, he brushed his tongue along her bottom lip, still needing to feel more of her. She opened without hesitation and he plunged eagerly inside. She shuddered in his arms, both hands now raking greedily through his hair. She tugged gently and he groaned. She took the opportunity to take the lead, dipping her tongue into his mouth. 

One of his hands moved up to tangle in her golden locks, the other splayed across her lower back, fingers itching to touch her bare skin. They fought for dominance, each nipping and sucking in an attempt to knock the other off balance by eliciting a gasp or a groan. He walked her backwards, breaking contact as he pinned her against a wall. 

He rested his forehead against hers, both panting for air. “Marry me.”

“What?” Her warm breath hit his lips in uneven bursts. 

He fought to maintain control over his desire to claim her mouth again, trying to finish his thought. “Marry me. Because I would like to date you.”

She looked into his eyes, arching an eyebrow. “Aren’t you supposed to get down on your knee or something?”

He captured her bottom lip between his, sucking and releasing it with an audible pop, as she groaned and melted into him in response. “I’m going to take that as a yes.”

“Oh, ok.” She smiled against his lips as he pressed them to hers once again.

He wasn’t sure how long they spent in the hall, snogging the life out of each other. At some point their stomachs had growled in unison, causing them to break apart giggling. They decided on take out, since John had already packed up most of his kitchen. The evening was spent on his couch, talking, eating, laughing, and a lot more snogging. 

It was late in the evening, empty food cartons were strewn about his coffee table. Rose was tucked under his arm, head resting on his chest. Her hoodie and his suit jacket lay forgotten on the floor. He couldn't believe how lucky he had gotten. His chest felt like it would burst, he was so full of love and happiness. 

Yes, they were going about this all backwards. But he didn't care. It fit them. And he knew they could make it work. He was content to just stay there forever, let the world pass by outside. Rose stretched and tried to stifle a yawn.

John hooked a finger under her chin, tilting her head up to look at him. "Tired?"

Her eyes cluttered lazily, sleepy smile on her face. "Maybe. The past few days have been rather..."

"Wonderful? Exciting?"

She laughed. "I was going to say stressful." He pretended to pout, earning a playful smack on his chest. "Not that I don't like the ending mind you. It's just been...a lot, yeah?"

"Yeah." He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before removing himself from her grip in order to stand. His own exhaustion was beginning to catch up to him. Sleep would be good. If it were up to him they would both sleep in his bed. Not that he was expecting _that_ to happen right away. He just wanted to be near her, but he wasn’t going to push it. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, you are more than welcome to take the bed. I can stay out here on the couch."

Taking his outstretched hand, Rose got to her feet, looking up at him with a puzzled expression. “Me? Take your bed? Your bed? And make you sleep on the couch? That’s rude. I think you have our roles reversed.”

He blinked in surprise. Shaking his head and laughing he bopped her on the nose. “No one has ever accused you of being rude. I don’t think anyone has ever even thought of you like that.” She rolled her eyes at him. “It’s just that...well.” He tugged on his ear. “I already packed my extra linens, they were in the spare bedroom. Which really doesn’t make sense, now that I think about it, seeing as how I was using the spare bedroom as an office. So why would I-”

He was silenced by her lips, her mouth swallowing the rest of his sentence. Unlike earlier, this kiss was slow and lazy. Each of them savoring the taste and feel of the other. The tension melted out of him. Their arms were loosely wrapped around each other when they broke apart for air.

“Now. The point of what you were trying to say was?” She looked at him with a smirk, enjoying his disheveled appearance.

“What? Oh! Right, that. Yes...my point was, and still is that I have no extra linens. So whoever takes the couch will be taking it as is. I can’t very well ask you to do that. Not after you chased me down.” He finished with a wink and a sly smile.

Rose giggled. “Or…”

“Or what?”

She pulled away, giving him her own sly smile, and headed to his bedroom.  
“Rose? _Or what_?” He stood still, brow wrinkled in confusion. Had he missed something during their conversation? He was having a hard time concentrating, the sway of her hips as she sauntered away was quite captivating. He silently thanked and cursed the open layout of his flat. Shaking his head in an attempt to clear it, he called after her once more. “Roooose?”

Pausing mid step, she glanced at him over her shoulder, eyes dancing. “Why don’t you come find out?” Turning back around, she grabbed the bottom hem of her t shirt. Walking in the direction of his bedroom, she pulled the garment up over her head, dropping it carelessly to the floor.

John’s jaw dropped. He gaped openly at her. It wasn’t until she reached the door to his room, that he realized he was still standing there like an idiot. Making up for lost time, he stepped up and over the couch. He doubted they would do much more than cuddle and snog each other senseless. After all, they were both exhausted from the past few days. That didn’t mean he had to keep her waiting. Falling asleep and then waking up in a tangled mass of (mostly naked) Rose Tyler suddenly became the most important item on his to do list. The details could get sorted tomorrow. They had the rest of their lives to figure out the rest, together.


End file.
